Unexpected
by SweetJane21
Summary: After being put through many trials of loss, separation, and temptation, forbidden lovers Spencer Hastings and Toby Cavanaugh have proven their love is eternal. But when the ambitious and intelligent beauty learns she is pregnant with Toby's child, Spencer is forced to make a difficult decision that could change everything.
1. Chapter 1

1\. The Darkest Hour

I ran inside the dark hall, with Hanna, Aria, Emily and Mona close at my side, trying to hurry. We didn't have much time. Charles would soon realize where we were headed.

For the last four years, my friends and I had been tormented and stalked by someone known as A, threatening us with notes and texts. At first, we thought A might have been Alison DiLaurentis, our long-lost best friend, as the notes centered around ninth grade from the same time she went missing. But then construction workers had found Ali's body underneath a concrete slab behind what used to be her house.

Up until five months ago, we all thought for sure that Ali was dead until we found her in Ravenswood hiding from A, leaving us with more questions that ever before. The texts grew scarier and more threatening, and A even went so far as to murder Alison's mother, Jessica DiLaurentis. Not long after Ali had returned to Rosewood, Mona Vanderwaal, Hanna's old best friend, faked her death with the help of A, who had taken over the game, and framed Alison for the murder in an attempt to stop A. Unfortunately, A had found her first and held her captive here in a recreation of their own life-sized dollhouse ever since, in the middle of nowhere. A had Mona pretend to be Alison, and she went along with the charade while they were watching in order to make A think that they'd won.

A day before, I saw a set of blocks from the game room that seemed to spell out a name that changed everything. After unscrambling the letters around in my head, I made the startling discovery that the blocks spelled out one singular name: Charles.

It had a name.

The following morning, I told Mona and my friends that Charles was A. And just when we all thought A's twisted games couldn't get any worse, he'd forced us into re-creating a fake Rosewood High School prom that my sister, Melissa, and her old boyfriend, Ian Thomas, had attended. Hanna, Aria, Emily, and Mona and I used the event to execute a plan of escaping by making a tool that would shut down all the power, guaranteeing our freedom. But just minutes before, I'd found my way into the vault, a room that Charles had mysteriously sealed off to the rest of the house. When I turned on a projector that was sitting in the center of the room, a video began to play of Mrs. DiLaurentis, Alison's mom, with two blonde toddler boys.

In the footage, she was kneeling down next to the boys, with a baby girl in her arms. They looked to be about six years old at least, with pale blonde hair and crystal-blue eyes, just like Alison's.

"Kiss your sister," Mrs. DiLaurentis had told them.

As if by command, they each pressed their lips to the baby's tiny forehead. I recognized where they were–the old Campbell farm where my parents used to take my friends and I for apple picking. My mind raced with more questions. What were they doing there? What did all this mean? Who was Charles? And what did he have to do with Mrs. DiLaurentis?

The sound of a man's footsteps scuffled stealthily behind me as the video continued to play. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my neck, sending chills down my spine. I couldn't breathe. Slowly, I turned around. Charles stood very still in front of me. He wore a black suit, and his face was half concealed by a red and white mannequin mask.

Charles was taller than I'd thought and he had broad shoulders, and I could see his longish dark-brown hair peeking out from the nape of his neck. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't pinpoint what exactly. It had less to do with the way he walked and more to do with that feeling of déjà vu, when you knew someone from a long time ago, but couldn't remember.

Emily pushed through the heavy steel door, shocking me out of my thoughts. But as we stepped out into the warm-night air, a wire fence surrounding the entire property had us blocked, and it quickly dawned on me that we were still trapped. The lights that were hooked around the perimeter of the fence were still turned off, leaving us in almost complete darkness.

I looked around the courtyard in horror and felt my chest tighten; we were trapped. Terror froze me in place, stopping my heart in a state of panic. I glanced over at my friends. Hanna was nearly a twin of Alison, with her wide blue eyes, curvy but slender form, and her short blonde hair was cut at the nape of her neck. Emily on the other hand was tall and lean, with beautiful olive-colored skin that complimented her long, deep black hair. And Aria, with her small, petite frame, straight black hair, and pouty lips, it was no wonder why boys wanted her. I was just plain and ordinary compared to them.

Maybe if I looked like the other Typical Rosewood Girls, I'd be hot and sexy, too. But I wasn't blonde, had All-American features, tan, blue-eyed, or sported Coach bags. Instead, I was ivory-skinned, long chestnut-brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and pointed chin. I'd always been slender and long-legged, but had the chest of an eight-year-old boy.

"Oh my god," Mona said in horror. The short, small girl looked terrified, and her blonde wig hung in chunks at her shoulders in contrast to her olive skin.

"We're still trapped," Hanna said.

Emily's expression suddenly took a determined edge. "We can climb it. Let's go!"

Aria, Emily, Hanna and Mona rushed towards the fence with desperation to climb over, to finally escape. Suddenly, the lights shot back to life and the rest of the power turned back on, electrifying the wire fence with a crackle.

My eyes widened in panic. "Stop!" I screamed.

The others stopped in their tracks, looking confused. Warning signs were attached all around the fence: _Warning, Electric fence._ Another one said, _Danger: 10,000 volts._

Just then, old-fashioned music blasted through the speakers. I tried to slow my breathing, forcing myself to think clearly through the fear that gripped my heart. I scanned the darkness for any signs of escape, trying to find some way out of this nightmare, and found none. My breathing picked up again, and my heart raced. There was no way out, nobody to save us. This was Charles' game, and we were the dolls.

Everyone looked around with scared expressions on their faces. We were still wearing the prom dresses that Charles had picked out for us. Mona looked like a princess in a floor-length, pale pink satin gown with a beaded high neckline, and Hanna was in a pretty red strapless sweetheart dress that showed off a little bit of her chest through the sheer lace, paired with elbow-length black gloves. Emily wore a skimpy navy-blue, velvet V-neck Mac Duggal gown, while Aria was dressed in a black-and-burgundy satin chiffon prom dress with matching satin gloves. Meanwhile, I felt plain in my off the shoulder purple-and-black plaid dress, which was how I always felt when I was back in Rosewood. Except when I was with Toby.

 _Toby._ My heart swelled just thinking about him. Toby Cavanaugh was my long-time boyfriend and one true love, and the last person to see me before the police arrested me as an accessory to Mona's faked murder. Just hours before, though, Toby professed his love for me, stating that he was choosing me over his job as a cop.

I felt my throat constrict at the memory. I'd just gotten Toby back, and now I would do anything to be in his arms again.

People used to cross to the other side of the street when they saw Toby, but no more than two years later, he'd transformed into a James Dean of Rosewood and joined the Rosewood police force to protect me. He had the physique of an athlete and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. From the moment he kissed me outside of the motel two years ago, I'd fallen completely, uncontrollably head-over-heels in love with him.

"There's no way out," Mona announced, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I stared up at the lights above, my heart pounding, wishing to find a way out of this hellhole. Frustrated, I turned back to the others.

"I'm not going back down there," Aria said stubbornly. As soon as she said that, the door behind us automatically locked, shutting us out.

We each let out a gasp. I sprinted to the door and tried yanking it open, but no matter what I did it wouldn't budge.

Hanna walked over to the security camera that was attached to the electric fence and looked straight into it. "You may be a dude, but you're still a bitch." Abruptly all the lights shut off.

"You guys," I whispered, turning around, "in the vault I was so close to Charles I could feel his breath."

"Was there anything about him you recognized?" Mona asked. "A smell?"

"She's not Jenna," Emily replied. Jenna Marshall was Toby's younger manipulative step-sister who we'd accidently blinded in a cruel prank set up by Alison back in ninth grade, but it turned out that Jenna had been raping Toby before she lost her sight in some sick plan to force him into a sexual relationship with her. This was one of the many heartbreaking things we'd learned after Toby and I started to develop feelings for each other.

"I don't know," I said, "I can't pinpoint it, but there was something that was really familiar."

Aria frowned. "You mean like the way he moved?"

I gazed up at the sky, my mind lost in thought. "No, it was…like when you meet a pen pal or like a cousin…or somebody that you knew when you were really little."

Hanna looked at me skeptically. "Wait, so you're saying you know Charles a little, but you feel like you know him a lot?"

I shook my head, brushing away such a crazy thought. "I can't explain it, it was just a feeling."

A few seconds of silence passed. The only sound was the cold wind blowing through the trees, which was growing stronger.

"I'm going to get cold out here tonight," Emily said after a moment.

Mona glanced around. "Where do you think we are?"

"We don't…we don't know how long we were out before we got here, so…" Aria trailed off.

"We could be in the Amazon right now," Hanna said.

"No, we're in the northern Hemisphere." I pointed at the half silver moon hovering above us. "That's the waning moon."

"I was saying that facetiously."

"Wow, that's an eleven letter word, Hanna," Mona said, sounding impressed.

Suddenly, Lightening cut across the sky and thunder broke overhead with a crash, making us all jump.

Emily's warm brown eyes widened with fear. "This fence is like a giant lighting rod." We all gathered together closely and looked at the electric fence nervously.

Hanna stared into the camera. "You going to let us fry out here?"

Lightning flashed again, followed by the loud rumble of thunder. The storm seemed to be reaching its climax as sheets of rain hurtled from the ominous dark clouds rolling overhead. Soon, the rain started to fall harder, pouring off the sides of the house.

With no idea where we were and nowhere to go, we had no choice but to stay outside in the pounding rain. Everyone huddled together on the wet ground, using the skirt of my dress as a cover. The wind picked up amidst the thunderstorm throughout the night, and I was so wet that I felt as if my skin was pruning. But that wasn't the worst part. Charles left us out for the next day, too. All of the rain from yesterday had dried, making the ground dry and hot.

I lay on my back against the burning hot ground, exhausted beyond belief. My eyes blinked open, slowly adjusting to the bright light, and the past few days came hurtling back. I threw arm over my face to shield my eyes from the stinging rays of sunlight from above. This was only Round Two of Charles' game, and I'd lost.

My throat was parched, and my limbs were sweaty and sore from lack of food or water. My dress was pulled up at my thighs from all the tortuous heat, and it stuck to my hot skin, making it extremely uncomfortable to move in the heat. It felt like I'd been lying here for weeks.

I stared through the trees, my mind spinning. We were outside of a demented real-life dollhouse in the remote woods that felt lonelier than the desert, surrounded by an electric fence. For the first time, I was uncertain of whether we would all survive.

My skin was so hot and sticky, it felt like my face was burning. I moved my hands down to my stomach, where a small but defined bump stuck out between my hips.

I was pregnant. It hadn't fully registered in my mind or body that there was something growing inside me until five months ago, when Toby and I had sex after his trip back from London. Since then, I'd had morning sickness around the clock, my body was changing rapidly every day, and my eating and sleeping habits had increased.

My fingers moved along the bulge, trying to feel something, any sign that my baby was alright. When I didn't notice any cuts or blood anywhere near my stomach, I let out a soft sigh of relief.

Then I closed my eyes, remembering clearly what had happened. A flood of memories began to wash over me like snapshots. The night Ali was convicted of killing Mona, the police arrested Aria, Emily, Hanna and I as accessories to her 'murder.' We had been put into the back of a police van to later be transported to a different prison separate from Alison, when suddenly the van crashed. The only thing I remembered before passing out was someone in a black hoodie hovering over us and shooting a smoky gas inside. It smelled strong like toxic fumes–a thick poisonous scent that filled my heart with dread.

 _No!_ I thought. _The baby._ But before I had a chance to hold my breath against the intoxicating flunitrazepam gas, everything faded to black.

I saw myself waking up in what I thought was my bedroom. I looked around the room and my blood turned cold. This wasn't my bedroom, I realized. It was only a look-alike version of it in A's recreation.

I was alone, blocked off by cement walls. A had kidnaped my friends and I, and locked us away in our fake rooms. The vision changed again, and I saw a dark hallway, which was lit up by pathway lights. I saw myself taking a tentative step out into the hall, only to find Aria, Hanna, and Emily stepping out of their rooms as well. Then an echoing of an automated woman's French voice came over the loudspeaker suddenly, telling us to follow the lighted pathway. Knowing what Charles had in store for us was enough to disturb my thoughts.

By nightfall, my body was starting to wear down, numbing over with fragility. I tried taking a couple of painful swallows, but my throat was too raw to moisten. A soft breeze tickled my bare skin.

I brought my hands along the surface of my dress. It was disheveled and smeared with dirt. The girls sat close to me, with the skirts of their dresses wrapped around them for warmth. I pulled my own dress closer to my body, though I didn't have any feeling in my body anymore. I hadn't bathed or eaten in days, and my arms and face were smudged with dirt and covered with scratches from having to sleep on the ground.

"How long can a person live without food?" Hanna asked suddenly, her voice small and quiet.

"Three weeks," Mona answered.

I felt my heartbeat quicken, and the anxiety pressed down on my chest. Just then, my maternal instincts kicked in, causing my hand to move over to my stomach, where the baby was hopefully still breathing inside me. Even if I managed to survive without food or water, I wasn't sure how long my baby could.

I raised my head slightly to look at her. "But water's a different story. Some people can only go a few days without it."

"You know you're dying when you're not hungry or thirsty anymore. It means your organs are shutting down."

"Mine are definitely working," Aria said. "I'm so thirsty, I'm seriously considering drinking my own pee." The others chuckled softly.

"I can totally suck on a pee ice cube right now," Hanna added.

"I'd lick sweat off a jockstrap," Emily said afterwards. Aria looked at Emily and frowned.

"Okay, Emily," Hanna surrendered, "you win."

"I don't know how much longer I can handle this," Aria said in a shaky voice. I noticed her face looked drained, and she was trembling.

Mona turned to Aria. "You can handle it, Aria. We all can."

Everyone was quiet for a few seconds, and we stared at one another uncertainly.

Trembling, I lowered my head and felt a throbbing ache pressing into my temples, and the world around me spun. I blinked, trying not to lose it, but to no avail. A swirl of colors danced in front of my eyes, threatening to blacken everything.

Then I felt my body go limp, crumbling onto the ground. My skin froze over, and my forehead started to bead with sweat. After a couple of minutes, I noticed the blur of colors starting to darken and swirl, until finally I let myself fade into the darkness.

A few days afterwards, Aria, Hanna, Emily, Mona and I slept on the hard ground, our shoes and gloves kicked off to the side, when abruptly the door to the Dollhouse finally opened with a whining squeak. Still slumped over, my eyes flew open and I used my hands and knees to stand up, staring intently at the heavy steel doors that were now yawning before us.

" _Bonjour_." A woman's voice rang out over the speaker. "Good morning. _Buenos Dias_."

I felt an uneasy chill. It was the same voice from before.

"Please enter and follow the lighted pathway," the voice continued.

I looked into the darkness looming beyond the doors, and my heart began to race. We all glanced at each other with wide, nervous eyes.

"I mean, I–I'm afraid to stay up here, but I'm also scared to death to go back there." Aria's voice quivered. Her eyes had dark-purplish shadows underneath, as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Please enter and follow the lighted pathway," the automated voice repeated. It rang out loud and clear

"You've been here the longest, Mona," Hanna said. "What do we do?"

Mona didn't speak right away. "Maybe this was our punishment. Maybe it's not mad at us anymore."

Emily turned to me. "Let's all stick together."

"Always." I looped my arm through Emily's. We were best friends and always would be. Staying together was what made us stronger.

Aria took Mona's hand, and Hanna slid her arm in the crook of Emily's elbow opposite of me. Hesitantly, we walked back inside, unsure of what lay ahead.

As we entered the dark, narrow hallway, the lights dotting along the walls suddenly flickered and blew out completely. A bright bolt of light flashed and everything went dark.

And then I heard something–a sort of rattling sound. It was coming from behind us. Everyone froze.

"What the hell?" Hanna said aloud.

Just as I heard the shattering rattle, a smoke bomb was thrown right in our path. It exploded in a cloud of grey smoke, hissing violently. My head continued to ache. I spun around, and we all screamed.

He was standing in front of us, wearing only a black hoodie and a gas mask covering his face, staring back at us.

I was vaguely aware of Hanna screaming Mona's name through the heavy smoke. Two leather-gloved hands shot out in front of Mona, dragging her towards him like a rag doll. He held her against him, forcing a gas mask against her face.

"Mona!" I shrieked, my heart beating hard.

Aria, Hanna, Emily and I started to cough heavily, struggling to breathe through the smoke. It swirled around me, burning my eyes. I recognized the scent; it was the same toxic fumes from when A kidnapped us from the back of the police van.

I coughed again, gasping for air. "Mona!"

The hall closed in around me as I inhaled the smoky fumes, making me dizzy. I tried to fight through it, but my eyes were growing heavy. A piercing shrill ringing in my ears made me aware that it was the side effect of the drug taking over my body. My throat closed up, and I felt the anxiety push in against me once more.

I clawed at the ground, desperate to find something, _anything_ to keep me awake, fighting for my breath. But I immediately felt the muscles in my body soften, and my vision blurred behind my eyes as I collapsed to the floor.

After what seemed like days of spinning through a black hole of nothingness, my eyes popped open. A bright, painful light stung my eyes. I was lying on my back with my arms pinned to my sides on an uncomfortable steel, cold table. I didn't have anything covering me except for a thin white sheet, like a corpse.

I looked around the room, then at my friends who were lying on matching gurneys next to mine. It was dark except for a few hanging overhead lights, and there was a tray of surgical instruments sitting at the foot of my gurney. In addition to the needles and forceps, there were shelves nearby full of bleach and other sterile fluids, and I realized where we were.

It was a morgue. My body went cold, prickling with fear and confusion. _What happened?_ We were unconscious; A could have done anything to us while we were out.

I rested my hands protectively across my tummy, rubbing the bump to make sure my baby was okay. I relaxed when I didn't feel any cuts or bruises along my stomach.

I pulled my arms out from underneath the sheet and held the sheet around myself, careful not to show the defined bulge in my stomach. A searing pain shot up my outer thighs and crawled down my arms. I tried to speak, but I couldn't seem to form the words. It burned my throat just by swallowing.

Hanna gasped. "Is this a hospital?"

"Looks more like a morgue," Emily answered.

I sat up and cried out painfully. My head ached at the center of my forehead between my eyes, and it felt like needles were stabbing at my temples. The room began to blur and shimmer around me.

I pressed my fingers to my eyes. "It feels like somebody's ripping my brain out through my eye sockets."

My head continued to throb, pulsing hard into the sensitive area behind my eyes.

"What did they do to us?" Aria asked.

Emily looked underneath her sheet and then sat back up. "Thank God."

Aria looked at Emily. "What?"

"I thought for a second A harvested our organs."

"Emily, we'd be dead," Hanna pointed out.

"You only need one kidney," Emily argued. Hanna and Aria looked down their sheets.

I glanced around the room, my mind slowly turning. And then it hit me. There was only one reason why A would put us in a morgue. If our families thought we were all dead, they'd have no reason to keep looking for us.

"Hey, guys," I whispered, my head reeling, "I think A wanted to make us look dead to send a message to our families."

Aria frowned. "What do you mean?"

"So they'd stop looking for us," Emily realized.

It fell eerily quiet. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling unhinged. I wondered if Toby noticed I was missing yet, and if he would come save me. But if my own family thought I was dead, how could he?

Misery welled up in my throat. I blinked back the hot tears that filled my eyes, trying to hold everything together. If we were going to get out of here, I had to stay strong.

Just then, a strange sound, like wheels squeaking against the floor, lingered nearby. Everyone glanced towards the door. I thought for a minute the door was open, giving me hope.

A dark figure entered, pushing a cart with a tray of Aspirin and juice into the room. When she came into the light, I saw it was Mona, clad in a candy striper outfit.

She smiled pleasantly. "Aspirin? Juice?"

"Mona, what the hell is going on?" Hanna demanded. "What happened to us?"

Mona handed Aria a small cup of round white pills and another of orange juice from a silver tray. "I've asked you not to call me that ever again, Hanna," she replied sternly. "That bitch is dead to me."

It suddenly occurred to me that Mona was back to acting like Alison.

"Okay, Ali," Aria said, trying to play along. "Ali, do you know what A did to us? We're scared."

"I'm scared, too," Mona said under her breath.

I took the cup of medication and juice Mona handed to me. "How long have we been here? How long were we unconscious?"

"Only a few hours. I've been in my room until now. That's all I know."

"Are you sure that's all you know?" Emily asked her.

But Mona didn't have a chance to answer. The voice on the speaker came back on, startling me.

"Please return to your rooms and find your surprises," the woman's voice ordered. The camera on the ceiling blinked red, whirring mechanically.

Mona looked directly at the camera. "No."

"Please return to your rooms and find your surprises," the voice repeated.

"I said, 'no,'" Mona said defiantly.

At that moment, a chime rang, three long _bongs_. "Three times means we have to go to our rooms," Mona explained. "Or else…"

My heart caught in my throat. What could A do to us that he hadn't already?

Mona wordlessly set down the tray and hurried out into the dark hall. I looked to the other girls, my eyes widening fearfully. I pulled the sheet around myself and hopped down. The others followed suit, and we rushed down the hall after Mona.

Mona's long blonde hair shone through the darkness like a neon as she walked ahead.

"Ali?" Emily called. "Ali! Ali, wait up! Please, talk to us."

"Or else what?" Aria asked, referring to what Mona mentioned just a few moments before.

Mona finally turned around, her eyes frightened. "It steals you in the night and puts you in the hole."

Before I could ask her what she meant, the speaker rang out instructions again, that same loud, echoing voice. "Please return to your rooms and find your surprises."

I felt a ripple of irritation. I really hated surprises. I liked knowing, of being certain.

"I hate surprises," I said glumly.

"Whatever the hole is, I don't wanna go there." Hanna's eyes flickered back and forth.

I pursed my lips stubbornly, my heart beating fast. Mona gave us one last look before heading towards her room and closing the door behind her.

Everyone looked at one another worriedly. I sucked in a breath, feeling my insides tighten. But I kept my face calm and composed; I wouldn't let A break me.

After a few long seconds, Hanna, Aria and Emily reluctantly walked down the hallway towards their rooms. Slowly, I walked to the door on the right side of the wall that led to my own room. I looked over and noticed the others had stopped at their doors as well.

Despite my hardest efforts to be brave, I couldn't stop trembling. Taking a deep breath, I cast one last glance over my shoulder at my friends before turning the door handle.

I heard the door shut automatically behind me as I walked into my room, and let out a terrified gasp.

What waited for me in that room was so horrifying, so painstakingly gut wrenching that it churned my stomach inside and out, grappling me in place.

I screamed at the top of my lungs in horror. "No, no, no!"

Tears ran down my cheeks as I succumbed to my punishment. More piercing screams filled the air, only confirming my worst fears. I tried to fight against the sharp pain, but it sliced me, leaving me helpless. The flow of blood sucked every part of me away with it.

And then it pushed me down, swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes and allowed it to drag me under until I was sinking.


	2. Chapter 2

2\. Game On, Charles

Toby

THREE WEEKS LATER

Mr. DiLaurentis' arms were wrapped around his daughter, Alison, and she had her head pressed to his chest. After a long moment, they pulled out of the embrace.

"This better work," Mr. DiLaurentis said, facing Lieutenant Tanner. He was referring to our plan to trap Andrew Campbell, the person who we were convinced had kidnapped my beautiful and kind-hearted girlfriend, Spencer Hastings, and her three friends three weeks ago.

I grimaced in uncertainty, then turned back to Detective Maple and the other officer, who were working on the wire connection that they'd set up a few hours ago. Detective Barry Maple was big–thick-waisted, but very tall and burly, with chocolate-colored skin and black buzzed hair. A pair of warm brown eyes were set on his open, friendly face.

Lieutenant Tanner turned to Mr. DiLaurentis. "Andrew's been obsessed with the girls since Ali went missing. If he really thinks that she's here alone there is no way he won't pass up the opportunity to grab her."

At thirty-three years old, Linda Tanner was a dark-haired bilingual woman, with a slight olive tone to her complexion. She had transferred in from the Rosewood State Police Department six months ago when Detective Darren Wilden was mysteriously murdered. Tanner had a way of twisting facts into her own theories, but she was able to link things together quickly when it came to A.

I'd joined the police force not long after my family's house had caught on fire, an explosion set up by A. Being a cop also gave me the chance to have access to all the police records and actually do something about the murders and disappearances in Rosewood. To really help people, when we took bad guys off the street and kept this town safe. It was one of the reasons why I loved my job. But mostly it was so I could protect the one person in this world who mattered most to me–Spencer. It was why I showed up every morning; she was what kept me going.

"And if you're wrong?" Mr. DiLaurentis questioned.

"Dad, this was my idea," Ali cut in. "If we don't poke the bear, it'll just keep hibernating."

"I know," he sighed. "I just…don't like the idea of using my daughter as bait."

The sky had just fallen into darkness outside on a Saturday night in April, police officers including me were all gathered in the DiLaurentis' plushly decorated family room, with laptops, phones, and a Stingray device to help us listen in on calls, connected to several wires on the table. Just a few minutes ago, Alison held a press conference outside, stating that her friends and Mona Vanderwaal, who had been discovered to be alive, were in grave danger, and requested no more press or police. She then spoke to Andrew through the camera, begging him not to hurt them.

Resting my hand on my gun holster, I looked over at the Mac LG laptop screen, showing a photographic hybrid map of Pennsylvania that we were using to track Andrew Campbell. If he was still in Rosewood, this map would alert us right to him.

A few other cops had gathered around. Just then, an officer with black, thick-rimmed glasses and dark hair walked up to me with a confidential folder. I nodded a thanks to him and opened it up. Inside were files of Andrew's past criminal records and physical description. I flipped through them page by page, but couldn't find anything related that could tell me where Andrew Campbell was, or where he was keeping Spencer and the girls.

"Your daughter will have police protection twenty-four hours a day," I heard Tanner assure Mr. DiLaurentis. "We will leave nothing up to chance. And if Andrew or anybody else tries to contact her we'll be ready."

"So what do we do now?" Alison asked.

"We wait," she answered calmly. "And we hope that Andrew makes a move."

Ali cast her worried blue eyes towards me from across the room. I set my jaw and cut my eyes at her.

Alison DiLaurentis was the former It Girl of Rosewood High's popular social circle and had chosen Spencer, along with Emily Fields, Aria Montgomery, and Hanna Marin to be her best friends three years ago. Her long, golden wavy blonde hair, big blue eyes, attractive heart-shaped face, charming bow-shaped lips, and fearless personality made it impossible to say no to her and made others feel special. It was those same charms that I'd almost fallen for and I'd hated her ever since, especially when I remembered the way she could manipulate me. Ali used to always savor making my life miserable before she went missing.

When Alison had blinded my step-sister, Jenna, with a lit firework during the summer of ninth grade, she'd threatened me into taking the blame for the accident, saying she'd tell everyone that I'd been forcing Jenna into a sexual relationship if I didn't keep quiet. But little did Alison know that it was actually _Jenna_ who had been forcing me. Whether I'd been guilty or not of raping Jenna, that secret had haunted me for three long years–a secret I'd tried hard to forget. But when I met Spencer, my life changed forever.

I stared down at Alison with hard eyes now, setting my mouth in a tight line. Ali may have been helping the police to get the girls back, but I knew the truth. She was a liar and a master manipulator, and would do anything to get what she wanted. If she hadn't been scheming with Detective Holbrook, Tanner's partner before he'd gotten suspended, and created an army to protect herself against Mona's plot, A never would have kidnapped Spencer in the first place and she'd be safe. But I couldn't think about that now; I had to focus on getting Spencer back. Until then, I would have to put up with Alison, no matter how hard it was.

A couple hours later, Lieutenant Tanner and the rest of the police officers sat around by the Stingray connection at the table, while I stood by Alison sitting stiffly on the living room couch. Mr. DiLaurentis sat opposite her on the chaise. We'd been waiting around for what seemed like all night for Andrew to reach out to Alison, and still there was no sign of him.

I shifted uncomfortably by the couch. Every minute we waited for Andrew to call was another minute Spencer was in danger. She could have been dead for all I knew. The thought of losing her seemed unbearable.

Ali stared at the old grandfather clock impatiently as it made a few loud ticks, then exchanged an uneasy glance with me. I looked towards Tanner and Detective Barry staring into the computer screens, where we were checking for a response from Andrew. Something about this felt very wrong.

"Do you need anything?" Mr. DiLaurentis asked Alison, breaking the tense silence. "Food, soda?"

Ali shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

Now Alison was staring at something along the far wall and let out a startled gasp. I turned to what she was looking at and saw a shadow moving in the hallway across the room. Alison jumped off the couch, her eyes widening.

I pulled my gun out of its holster and moved towards the opening of the hallway, aiming it at the perpetrator. I kept my eyes locked on the hall and gripped the gun, when I heard a scuffling sound, like footsteps, coming towards me.

Finally he came in through the doorway. But when I pulled back the trigger on the gun, getting ready to shoot, I was staring into the blue eyes of Jason DiLaurentis.

Jason sprang backward, startled to see me holding a gun in front of him. "Toby, what the hell?" He looked around at the other police officers in confusion.

I let out a breath of relief and lowered my gun. Jason DiLaurentis was Ali's older brother and had the same golden blonde hair and clear blue eyes, but was taller with broad shoulders, and a perfectly chiseled chin. He also happened to be Spencer's half-brother, after her father had an affair with Alison's mother, Jessica DiLaurentis.

I put the gun back into my police belt. "Why didn't you come in the front?"

"Told me to be discreet, I came in through the garage," Jason answered.

Just then, Alison's iPhone 6 Plus rang, giving out three loud chimes. Everyone fell deafly silent as Ali pressed the speakerphone button and showed it to Tanner. The phone lit up in her hand, and I caught a glimpse of the number in the preview screen. It was coming from a restricted number. My heart pounded. _Andrew_.

"Everybody stay absolutely silent," Tanner ordered quietly.

Detective Barry immediately sat down at one of the laptops sitting on the table and pressed a headset to his ear to trace the call. He nodded at Alison to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Alison said in a shaky voice.

He didn't answer.

I lingered nearby the phone, fidgeting nervously. An anxious sensation formed in the pit of my stomach, and I was terribly afraid that Spencer was hurt somewhere, cold and alone, and how I might never see her again. The thought made me uneasy.

"Hello?" Alison repeated.

A few seconds later, melodic music rang out from the other end of the line. There was something oddly familiar about the song, but I couldn't figure out what exactly. I listened to the familiarity of it, tensing at the sound, trying to understand the lyrics and what it all meant.

Tanner motioned for Alison to keep Andrew on the line.

"I know I'm the one that you really want," Ali continued. "Just tell me where you are and I'll find a way to get there. But I have to know that you won't hurt them."

The person on the other end clicked off and the phone disconnected.

Tanner looked at Detective Barry. "Did you get it?"

He stared at the screen and stood up, a serious look on his face. "The caller's in the house."

I froze. Everyone looked around nervously, but there was nothing out of the ordinary nearby. The lights were still turned off and everything was silent. Was Andrew watching us? Was he here right now?

Just as soon as Maple informed us of the caller, Tanner quickly led Alison upstairs with one of the officers, a thickish woman with strong features, to lock Ali inside the closet downstairs to keep her safe while the cops and I spread out to search around the house.

While Tanner and Barry were checking downstairs, I climbed to the second floor and took a look around, holding my bulky flashlight in one hand and my gun in the other. The floorboards creaked underneath me as I moved slowly down the hall.

As I neared Alison's bedroom, I carefully cracked open the door and aimed the flashlight beam across the room. Slowly, I stepped inside, moving along the wall, noticing a creaking sound coming from somewhere close by. Nothing appeared unusual or disturbed. The bed was made, Alison's dresser drawers were shut tight, the curtains hung in long, perfect drapes on either side of the paneled window, picture frames arranged neatly in rows on the walls. The only light in the room was coming from the moonlight outside the closed window. My stomach tightened.

I moved further inside the room, knowing A was in here somewhere. That's when I noticed a movement in the corner. Someone in a dark hoodie was sitting in a rocking chair, rocking slowly back and forth. He was dressed head to toe in black and wearing leather gloves.

"Show me your hands!" I commanded, focusing my eyes on the person sitting in the rocking chair. He didn't move.

"Let me see your hands." I moved closer to him, raising my gun behind him.

A second later, Tanner appeared soundlessly, coming in with a loaded gun as well. She moved to the opposite side of him and glanced at me with serious eyes.

"One," I mouthed to her. "Two…" Then I pulled back the chair, swinging him around, only to reveal someone wearing a pig mask. I sighed in frustration as I examined the dummy, frowning.

I pulled the pig mask off, but the face behind it was plastic and expressionless. It was only a dummy of a real-looking person made to look like A, dressed in a black hoodie and pants. Another sick joke left by A himself. The dummy's face was so worn out that its smooth cheeks shone with age.

A had lots of dolls, and liked to use them for their games with the girls more than anything else. They had porcelain dolls, talking dolls, and baby-faced doll masks for elaborate costumes. Some were half bald. And some were so old that they had arms or legs missing. But every one of them was creepy.

Suddenly, a cell phone from somewhere nearby rang loudly. And chimed. It sounded like it was coming right from the dummy. Tanner felt the fake A for the ringing phone and pulled it out from the outside hoodie pocket.

She pressed the speaker button. "Hello."

The sound of a pig squealing began to surge out from the iPhone's speaker and I looked at it in quizzically. A hot, uncomfortable feeling pooled in my stomach.

Tanner and I both turned at the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall, and were surprised to see the officer who had been watching Alison standing in the bedroom door. She was holding a gun in front of her, which she lowered the moment she saw Tanner and I in the room.

"Why aren't you downstairs?" Tanner demanded. She slid past her without waiting for an answer.

I put my gun away and headed back out into the hall. Then I climbed down the stairs after Tanner to the hallway closet, where Alison had been locked away.

The closet door creaked open as Tanner unlocked it. I peered in from behind her. Rows of colorful wrapping paper lined the walls, wicker baskets held bolts of fabric along shelves of the closet organizer, and racks of wine bottles paneled against the sides. A bottle of red wine had crashed to the tile stone floor, spilling out in a dark liquid that reminded me of blood. But Alison was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell is she?" I said to Tanner.

We moved down the first floor frantically, opening every door and closet that Alison could have possibly hidden in. When we couldn't find her, Tanner pulled out her cell phone and called for an APB at the police station to track Alison and Andrew.

Tanner and I reentered the living room, where Jason and Mr. DiLaurentis were gathered with the police. I stood with my hands on my hips, the wheels turning in my head. It then suddenly hit me: the song playing when Alison received the call from the blocked number. It was a classical tune called, _Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree_. I remembered it from when my mother used to play it on the piano when I was little.

"Put out an APB," Tanner ordered into the phone. "Alison and Campbell should be on everyone's screensaver from here to Lake Michigan."

I remained perfectly still, the realization washing over me. The song was a message from A, asking Alison to meet him at the Campbell Apple Farm.

"What is it, Toby?" Jason asked, noticing my twisted expression.

I turned to him. "It's that song. My mom used to play it on the piano. It's called, _Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree_."

Tanner looked at me. "Call that in."

I left the room to click on the dispatcher attached to my shoulder, and spoke into the speaker at the police station. "We got a possible location on the van."

"Stop, please!" I overheard Mr. DiLaurentis pleading. "Someone tell us what the hell is goin' on."

Once I was sure no one was watching, I quickly typed in a message to Caleb on my phone's keypad and hit SEND: _Tanner sent everyone to the Campbell Apple Farm. You're in the clear._

I kept my face neutral. _Just act normal_.

We didn't know where A was keeping Spencer and the others, but there was only one way to find them. Caleb Rivers and Ezra Fitz came to me for help a week before with a plan to offer Alison up as bait to A to rescue the girls. The plan was dangerous and could even get us all killed, but it was our only chance at finding them.

After we diverted the police to the Campbell Apple Farm with a phone call made by Caleb, he and Ezra would follow Alison to wherever A took her with a GPS tracking device in her high-heeled stilettos, leading us straight to the girls. If it worked A would be waiting for Ali at the Kissing Rock, the woods beyond the lake where kids from Rosewood High would have secret rendezvous hookups, just like she'd said at the press conference.

If this worked, A would be caught and I'd have Spencer back safely in my arms. I didn't necessarily trust Alison or even like her for that matter, but one thing was certain: she knew how to get results.

I just hoped I wasn't too late.

Spencer

I couldn't shut out the alarms. Darkness enveloped me, pulling me under. I shot up with a gasp on the bed of my old bedroom with no idea how I'd gotten there, my dark brown hair damp with sweat.

The loud, shrieking alarms pierced my skull. My throat burned from screaming, clawing at my throat until it was raw. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to clear my head of all the noise. It took a moment for the alarms and the screams to finally stop.

During the middle of the night, I'd been awoken by a low pitch screeching in my ears, like a computer shutting down. When I sat up in bed, looking for the source of the sound, it suddenly occurred to me that it was the power generator shutting down again. The power was still powering down, every day at midnight like clockwork. The electricity didn't operate when the power shut off, so the locks on the doors didn't work and A couldn't see anyone on the live cameras set up all over the house, but it only lasted for three minutes. The only way out was an exit at the end of the hallway nearby the sealed-off vault door, but there was an old missile silo at the top. A ladder had been built into the steel, but it was about fifty feet up and it was nearly impossible to climb up before the power returned. Whoever Charles was, he'd made a near perfect hostage chamber.

My head started to ache. The room had become frighteningly still, flooding me with memories. Walking away from Toby in the courthouse hallway. The look on his face when I told him I'd kissed my sister's roommate when I was away in London. Toby kissing me, professing his deep love for me.

But when I rolled over on my side, another image replaced it. Toby, a tortured expression on his face. He was alone in a small, dark room ahead of me. I was standing in an empty long, white hallway. Behind me, there was nothing but darkness, and ahead of me, only bright light. I took a couple steps, but the more I tried to reach him, the further he became. My heart rammed against my ribcage, and it felt like the walls were closing in around me.

This wasn't happening. It felt like I was trapped in a dark fairytale I couldn't find my way out of, with monsters and looming shadows following my every move, where my prince wasn't coming to kiss me awake from my enchanted sleep. Suddenly, a blinding light flitted in front of my eyes and I found myself sitting next to Toby on one of the upholster chairs in the Rosewood Police Department's main office. His normally untidy dark brown hair was combed, and he wore his navy-blue police uniform. My skin turned to ice, and when I looked at my reflection in the one-way mirror, a different version of myself stared back. I was still wearing an orange jumpsuit, and my hair was twisted back into a ponytail.

"Officer Cavanaugh."

When I turned, a police officer with dark hair and thick-rimmed black glasses walked into the room, handing over a thick manila file. As Toby opened up the folder, the officer rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We haven't given up yet."

 _No!_ I screamed. He thought I was dead.

"Toby," I said desperately, standing up. "I'm here."

But Toby looked right through me, as if he couldn't see me. "Thanks."

"There haven't been any new leads to Spencer Hastings whereabouts yet," the officer said. "I'll notify you when there's been a change."

It felt like someone had just slapped me hard across the face. " _Toby!_ " I cried. I shook Toby's shoulder. "Toby, it's me! Look at me!"

Toby stared at me with agonized eyes, and right then I saw how much pain this was causing him. I stepped back, mystified. He didn't know I was alive. Toby thought I was still missing. And then another blur of light shone in front of my face.

My surroundings slowly eased back into plain view as I woke from the dream, but it still clung at the edges of my mind.

The last three weeks had been brutal, not so much because I'd been locked up in my room without any showers or source of hygiene, but because whenever I tried to sleep, the same reoccurring nightmare plagued my mind. Even after the pain from my wrists eventually subsided, the nightmare always came. It was always the same, with me trying to get to Toby, calling out his name. When I realized he couldn't hear me, that there was nothing but emptiness and there would never be any chance of being with him again, I would wake up sobbing. Even though I had no desire to revisit the horrid dream, it followed me during the day like a shadow, playing on a loop. And just when I thought my suffering couldn't get any worse, the nightmare returned at night.

I looked around warily. I was sitting on my clean-lined, four-poster canopy bed in the middle of my bedroom. I felt the fabric of my creamy toile duvet comforter and glanced over at the thonet bentwood rocking chair Toby had made for me in the corner of the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my stomach flipped as I realized that this wasn't my bedroom; it was a replica of my room back home. I was still in the Dollhouse.

I threw back the covers and pressed a hand to my stomach, my insides instantly warming at the bulge against my fingers. I was still pregnant. I was wearing a blue argyle cardigan over a light blue collared shirt and beige khaki pants, but I had no memory of changing into it the night before. There was no light coming from the windows blocked off by concrete walls. My eyes adjusted to the dim light as I scanned the room, noticing the whiteboard hanging over my desk. _Welcome Home_ was written across the board, along with a schedule of activities to do during the week.

I glanced towards my bookshelf, which was empty except for a few blank picture frames. The details of last night were fuzzy, but I vaguely remembered hearing wheels squeaking down the hall outside and then the wire mesh door from inside my room sliding open. A moment later, I saw two hands set down a tray of food in front of me.

I'd quickly pushed the tray aside and gotten down on my belly to look through the slot. A girl with Mona's long blonde hair was kneeling down in front of the door, and was dressed in Alison's yellow top from the night she went missing. I had called after her, asking her to help us. My friends' voices echoed from the hallway too, yelling out to her for help. After that, she'd shut the door and run off.

Another memory rushed through me suddenly. The night before Ali took the stand in court for Mona's supposed murder, Toby came to visit me. When he became a police officer to protect me, he had to choose between his job and me. But during our rift, I'd briefly kissed two other guys, and despite my sickening guilt, it felt good to be with someone who wanted me, something that Toby hadn't wanted in a long time. After Toby arrived at my house, he came inside to talk.

He tossed his police badge across the kitchen counter island, his blue eyes hard. Toby didn't speak for a long moment. "I have done a lot to get that. I got my butt kicked in the academy for it, I fought with my dad about it, I even got a buzz cut."

I felt tears brimming over my eyes. I knew perfectly well everything Toby had done for me, and it killed me to know that I was the reason joining the police force was tearing him apart.

"I did it because I was tired of not being able to protect the one person in this world who matters most to me," he went on. "And I am not gonna choose, Spencer. I'm not gonna choose between it and you."

"I never asked you to," I said softly. I averted my eyes away from his face, unable to look at him.

"I know," Toby said. His voice choked with emotion. "But Tanner has." He stepped towards me, closing the space between us. "And that's why I'm gonna tell her if she's not okay with me being with you and being a cop, then she's gonna have to kick me off the force."

I stared at him in shock, my heart thumping hard in my chest. His eyes had glassed over with tears, reflecting my own.

We stood there for a moment, staring at each other in silence. I watched his chest collapse, as if his heart was beating as fast as mine. My lower lip trembled, unsure of what to say. Then, before I could react, Toby grabbed me and instantly smashed his lips onto mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth, sucking me in.

And then, unable to resist him, I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him back desperately, feeling his lips harden against mine. Toby moved his lips lovingly against mine, twisting his tongue with my own. I melted into him and forgot about everything else, letting all of my worries slip away.

I tilted my head, trying to get even closer. Our lips parted, and Toby slid his arms around my lower back. He recaptured my mouth, kissing me like I was his oxygen and he couldn't breathe without it. My hands ran along his arms, moving from his chest to his face, soaking up the sunlight of his intoxicating kisses.

I locked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. We let out a series of smacking noises, lost in each other's arms.

It was the most amazing, romantic, passionate, and loving kiss we'd ever had. This was Toby. My perfect, sweet, caring, loving Toby. After all those torturous months of being away from him, I finally felt loved and appreciated again. Toby was my forever.

After spending several minutes kissing endlessly, we broke a kiss that took my breath away. Toby reached out to touch my face and stroked my cheek tenderly. Unable to resist, I leaned my cheek into his hand, kissing the inside of his palm. He trailed his fingers ever so gently over my lips, and I parted them underneath his touch.

"I love you so much," Toby murmured.

He bent his face toward mine again and kissed me full on the mouth. My eyes were still closed when he reluctantly pulled away, in disbelief that this was happening.

"I thought you didn't want me anymore," I breathed, my voice cracking. Finally, I opened my eyes and tears began to form.

Toby stared into their depths, shaking his head at me. "Spencer, nothing could ever make me stop loving you. Nothing. I'll always want you, I'll always love you." He paused, staring at my face, looking vulnerable. "Do you still love me?"

"Toby, my feelings for you will never change," I answered, meeting his eyes. "I will always love you."

Toby greedily placed his hands on both sides of my face and molded his mouth onto mine. I kissed him back, not wanting to stop.

As soon as I felt his body molding against mine, I was reminded that he was really here with me, that tonight was real, and suddenly nothing else mattered. I could feel all my responsibilities, A, and the drama of Alison's trial, slowly seeping out of my body and fading away. The only thing that mattered was that the love of my life was holding me, my soulmate.

Toby quickly unbuttoned my blouse and skirt, and I took off his shirt and pants. We moved over to the living room in a passionate haze, kissing each other all over our bodies. Then we sank down onto the carpeted floor by the fireplace, and he lifted me on top of him. I could feel every muscle in his body as I pressed my thighs hard against him.

The flickering flames from the fireplace cast Toby's face aglow. He grabbed the throw blanket that was resting over the top of the couch and pulled it over us, and we kicked off the rest of our clothes where we had sex. We made love for several hours, grinding and rubbing our bodies against each other. Both the heat of the fire and Toby's body pressed against mine flamed my skin. Afterwards, Toby held me in his arms by the fire the entire night, kissing me and telling me how much he loved me.

When we grew tired from lovemaking, Toby and I fell asleep together on the pillows and covered with the blanket, snuggled up closely in each other's arms.

With my head buried in his chest, Toby kissed my forehead. "I love you, baby," he whispered.

"I love you, too," I whispered back. I couldn't remember feeling so loved in my entire life. I could still feel the brush of his hand against my cheek, of his soft lips on mine.

"Please proceed to Ali's room and prepare for arrival," the voice over the speaker echoed, startling me from the memory.

I jumped and looked to my left at the bedroom door. The sound of the door unlocking thudded in my ears painfully. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and planted my feet on the carpeted floor. I staggered slightly, wincing from a stabbing pain that sliced through my wrists, a reminder of what had happened last night. And just like that, the memories from the last three weeks came floating back to the surface. But I pushed them down, refusing to face the painful events from my memory. I couldn't handle thinking about it.

When I reached the door, I turned the knob and opened it to reveal the lit up hallway. The other three doors opposite mine creaked open as well, and I peeked out into the dim light. Across from me, Aria stood at her door wearing a violet flowing top underneath a black leather jacket, and denim shorts cut off at her thighs over stripped leggings. Her hair had been cropped at her chin, dyed with the same pink stripes that she'd had from ninth grade.

Tentatively, I stepped out into the hall, flinching as the door slammed shut behind me. Then suddenly I saw Emily appear in her blue Rosewood High School swimming jacket and sweatpants as she walked around Aria, and noticed that her expression looked exactly as I felt–pained, distraught. The words to speak stuck in my throat; words couldn't even begin to describe the horrors of what had happened in that locked room.

I looked at Emily, troubled, and she stared back at me for a few long seconds before she finally spoke. "I'd ask if you were okay, but…"

"Let's not talk about what we just went through," Aria cut her off. "At least not until we get out of here."

I felt my eyes water with tears. "I don't know if I could even find the words," I admitted. I heard my voice crack as I said it, taut with emotion.

A door creaked open, and we all turned to find Hanna standing in the doorway behind Emily. She wore a long-sleeved floral black shirt and a pair of slim-fitting orange jeans. They were smudged with dirt and tattered with holes.

I stared at Hanna, noting the evident tortured expression on her face. She swallowed miserably and looked away, avoiding eye contact. I crossed my arms over my chest and bit my lip, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Emily stepped closer to her. "We're all together again. Okay, it's going to be okay." She leaned in closer to Hanna and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her.

Aria glanced down the hall nervously. Her face looked haunted, full of secrets. My lower lip quivered as I let out a shaky breath, following her gaze towards the dark hallway ahead. I shuddered, my thoughts consumed with what would come next.

"Please proceed to Ali's room and prepare for arrival," the voice repeated. We all looked at each other with anxious eyes.

Hanna pulled out of Emily's arms. "I don't wanna get in trouble again. Let's just go."

Everyone watched as Hanna bravely headed down the hall. But after taking a couple steps, she stopped abruptly at the corner. I peered into the hallway. It was dark and wide with cemented ceilings that arched above. Flat cladding moldings ran through the tall, hard grey stone walls and floors, making the house seem colder and more ghostly.

Hanna continued on, and everyone followed. We took slow steps through the gloomy hallway as we followed her. I still wasn't comfortable going to Ali's room, afraid of what I would find there.

The further we walked, the more terrified and uncertain I became. The hallways turned left and right like a maze, confusing me even more. The place was shrouded in darkness except for the lights along the pathway, which glowed eerily against the floor. We passed many doors until we finally reached Alison's.

Finally, we came to a singular white door directly ahead of us, with no other doors on the right and left of us. The hall was narrower than the one we'd come from. My stomach twisted as Hanna pulled the door open, making the hinges creak.

We walked into a replica of Ali's room that looked like something that could have been pulled out of one of Paris' sophisticated townhomes. A floral mural was painted in the corner of the cream-colored wall, with a solid wood vanity and dressing table pushed against the north side. In the center of the room was Alison's deep-coffee full trundle bed with the same gold calligraphy script duvet covers and pillows that we'd all slept on during our many ninth grade sleepovers together, and an elegant soft pink curtain was draped above. The familiarity of the room tightened my nerves.

I noticed a clutter of boxes sitting on top of the bed and stopped short. A million thoughts raced through my mind, but nothing could have prepared me for this. After a moment, Emily moved around Aria and walked into the room.

"Be careful," Aria cautioned.

I moved towards the bed after Emily, and we started to unfold the packed boxes. Inside were pink satin pillows, old books, and some of Ali's clothes. Squinting, I realized it was all Alison's stuff from her bedroom.

Emily pulled out a hanging bedroom sign with a French quote written across. "This is all Ali's stuff from her room at home."

I looked down at the bed and saw a newspaper article sitting next to it. Across the front page was a portrait of Mona from one of her family photo albums and a mug shot of Alison, with the words DILAURENTIS MURDER CONVICTION OVERTURNED written above. My spirits rocketed. Alison's guilty verdict over killing Mona had been overturned.

I picked it up and said, "You guys, Ali's murder conviction was overturned. They're letting her go." I looked up at them with a feeling of relief.

Hanna crossed her arms. "If that's even a real paper."

Emily opened up another box, where a light blue guitar poked out. "How did A get all this stuff?" she wondered out loud.

"You're seriously still asking how?" Aria said sarcastically.

"Yeah, Aria's right," I agreed. "Question down here is why."

"Did A force you guys to sign the welcome card for Ali?" Hanna blurted.

No one answered. I looked at Hanna to see if maybe she was joking, but her mouth was taut and serious. Aria opened her mouth, but no words came out. I suddenly felt very faint.

During the three weeks that A had locked us in our rooms, someone had left a creamy, rectangular envelope in the door slot for me with Alison's name written across the front. When I'd sliced it open with my fingernail, I stared at it in horror. It was a welcome home card for Ali. The front of the card had a picture of a pink house on an apple-green lawn. Printed in rosy-pink letters inside the card read, _See You Soon!_

What was that supposed to mean?

Several signatures had already been scrawled across the parchment. I stared at the handwriting, immediately recognizing it as Aria, Emily, and Hanna's. My hands shook wildly as I read the messages my friends wrote to Ali. There was a small, square note on heavy cream card stock stuffed inside the envelope, accompanied with a black and white photograph. Someone had written something in big, bold red letters on a post-it note over the photo.

 _Sign for Ali or your fetus will get a surprise._ _Kisses! – A_

I turned over the photo and my heart dropped. It was an ultrasound snapshot of a woman's uterus, the dark and light shapes blurry and confusing. _My_ uterus. I looked at the familiar inside walls of my stomach. I couldn't tell where the head was, or if it had arms and legs yet.

The picture slipped from my hands and I let out a small gasp of disbelief. But it was the image of my unborn baby that made my stomach heave. What did A want from my baby? How did he perform an ultrasound on me? And how did he know I was pregnant? I hadn't even gone in to see the doctor yet about my pregnancy. The newfound information shook me to the very core.

My breathing picked up as I searched frantically for some sort of clue that could tell me how Charles had gotten the ultrasound, but found nothing. My eyes moved to the A note.

I'd been beyond terrified when I first saw that line of pink on the pregnancy test, but I couldn't imagine losing the baby now. I blinked away tears that began filling my eyes. I rested my palm against the center of my stomach. _I can't lose you_ , I thought to the baby. _You're my life now._

I heard a ruffling sound as Emily unwrapped crumpled newspaper paper from one of the boxes, disrupting me from my thoughts. She pulled out a glass-shaped Eiffel tower–I recognized it from Ali's room. Alison had been dreaming of going to Paris for years.

It suddenly hit me, sending my heart dropping at my feet. I could think of a very good reason why A would have taken all of Alison's stuff. A was planning on luring Ali here into the Dollhouse.

"Oh my god," Emily said. "I think we're getting ready for Ali's arrival. The real Ali, not Mona."

I looked down at the newspaper and skimmed over a few lines of the article, trying to find anything that would give us some answers. I gasped when I read the last line of the paragraph. "Oh, Ali. No."

"What?" Aria leaned in to take a look. "What is it, Spence?"

"'DiLaurentis was offered police protection, but declined citing the need to heal privately with her family,'" I read out loud.

"So Ali's a sitting duck," Emily said.

Something whirred above on the ceiling, and we all looked at the blinking camera. I glanced at Aria, Hanna, and Emily worriedly, thinking about who was watching us.

Hanna stared nervously into the camera and then stepped towards us. "If A brings Ali here, does that mean that he won't need Mona anymore?"

"So where is she?" Aria demanded.

Everyone fell silent. I cut my eyes away, my stomach spinning in relentless circles.

As the others unpacked more boxes of stuff, I rifled through one that was full of Alison's childhood toys that she'd had as a kid. Aria began putting away Ali's clothes in the wardrobe closet on the far right by the bed, while Emily unfolded more crumpled newspaper at Ali's cherry-wood dresser that A had used as tissue paper for the more fragile items.

Sitting beside me in a French split loveseat, Hanna examined a small, tawny scrapbook filled with photos of us from ninth grade–I recognized it from the day we'd spent at the lake by the Kissing Rock. We used to hang out there during our summers with Ali. "I can't believe Ali saved this. This is from the day we were at the lake."

I glanced at a photo on one of the pages. It was of all of us lying on our backs together on the fresh summer grass, grinning from ear to ear, as happy as fifteen-year-old best friends could be. Another was of us all lying out on the sand by the lake, wearing nothing but our bikinis, except for Hanna who had refused to strip down to nothing but her baby-blue oversize T-shirt and boyshorts. Several lush photographs of the five of us together were glued to the pages.

Back in ninth grade, Ali was the kind of person who would start rumors just to torment people. It was Ali who called Jenna Marshall Jenna the Jerk. She'd spread the rumor that Toby sacrificed squirrels. She insulted everyone and they just took it.

"Well, Ali was in rare form that day, remember?" I said. "She insulted everyone we'd ever met." I went back to the box and continued to search through it.

"We let her call Lucas, Hermie," Hanna pointed out.

An uncomfortable, guilty feeling washed over me. Lucas Gottesman was a boy in our grade at Rosewood High and used to be one of Alison's favorite targets. He had a huge crush on Hanna before she started dating her new boyfriend, Caleb Rivers, who was kind and sweet to Hanna, and also happened to be a genius at hacking computers and people's phones. The rumor about Lucas being a hermaphrodite had started when he'd accidently spilled his drink all over her boots in the Rosewood High hallway. Ali had mercilessly laughed and called him Hermie in front of the entire school.

"We let her blind Jenna," Aria piped up.

"We are not the same people we were back then," Emily said, looking at us. "Including Ali."

I peered into the box that I had been rummaging through and picked up a wooden toy sailboat with a string rope attached, painted red, blue, and white. It looked dusty, as if a much younger Alison had just left for dinner and would be back any minute to resume playing. There was the brown stuffed teddy bear that Ali had when she was seven, a ballerina jewelry box, and multi-colored dance scarfs were still strewn over the top.

I lifted the boat over and saw someone's initials carved in the wood on the front: _C.D_ –Charles DiLaurentis. I frowned. Why would Charles' things be in Alison's stuff from home? Then something in my mind clicked, like two important mechanism gears finally joining together. The familiar feeling of déjà vu settled over me once again, except this time I was getting the strong sense that Charles and Alison grew up together. Maybe Charles was related to the DiLaurentis family somehow. And maybe he had darker secrets than we did.

A horrible, swooping feeling began to wash over me. I didn't have much evidence to back up the theory, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. And it explained a lot of other things, too. Like why Alison's mother always seemed to favor Ali over Jason. How there were almost no photos of him in the family albums. Maybe the DiLaurentis family weren't snubbing him after all–maybe they were hiding pictures of Charles for some unexplained reason. But why hadn't they told Alison or Jason about him? It all seemed so bizarre.

Remembering we were being watched, I looked up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. A was somewhere in the Dollhouse, watching us from the set-up cameras in every room. If this A really knew everything about us and could see our every move–and was poised to hurt us at any moment–then it was going to be harder than I'd thought to get out of here alive.

"Hey, Spence, can you come help me with this?" Aria called from beside the closet.

I looked up, startled, and quickly hid the toy car behind the box. "What?" I pretended to keep sorting through the box of Ali's things. "Help you with what?"

"Uh, the rod's just a bit loose."

"Um, I don't know," I replied. "Hanna, can you please do it?"

"She's busy," Aria said quickly. She gave me a knowing look.

Unwillingly, I got up and walked over to where Aria was standing at the closet. "What?" I said, and froze.

Carved in the wood in the back of the closet were five simple words:

 _HE'S GOING TO KILL ME – M_

I realized that Mona must have written the message for us when she'd been in here, the same room she was sleeping in as Alison. The blood pounding behind my ears made it hard to stay upright. This was it–Charles was going to kill Mona. And we were the dolls playing along in his game.

"You see what I mean?" Aria asked in her most casual-sounding voice.

"Oh, yeah, I see," I said. I tried to keep my voice light.

Emily turned around, meeting my eyes. I stared back at her, hoping the fear wasn't evident on my face. Hanna, who was still flipping through Ali's old scrapbook, followed Emily's gaze. I was too terrified to move. My mind still couldn't process the horror and the confusion of what I had just discovered.

A wouldn't need Mona around as Alison anymore now that he would be abducting her soon. What good would she be to him now?

I knew we needed to leave this place, but how long would our families keep looking for us until they finally lost hope? Or would Charles go back for them and kill them, too? And what was worse, he could kill Toby…

My heart throbbed painfully in my chest. Even being separated from him now, imagining Toby getting hurt in any way tore at my insides like a blunt knife ripping into my skin. It was not something I cared to think about, ever. Wherever Toby was, I prayed desperately that he was safe. But one thing remained clear.

We were all going to die.

Toby

 _"Andrew Campbell remains the top suspect of the kidnapping case and he's presumed to be dangerous_ ," a newscaster from the security tape reported.

Detective Barry and I sat at the police station's mahogany table inside the break room, watching footage from the press conference of the news report that they had filmed prior to Alison's disappearing act a couple hours ago. The room was small, with bland white walls, and the lights were dimmed. A box marked EVIDENCE sat on top of the table, full of files of the kidnapping case.

I rested my elbow on the solid wood, my hand pressed against the side of my face, resisting the urge to gauge my eyes out of boredom. The last few hours had been agonizingly long. We'd been watching the security tape from the camera that had been set up outside of the DiLaurentis home in the hopes of catching something suspicious, but for the last two hours nothing had changed. I couldn't concentrate on anything but Spencer's face, of her beautiful chocolate-brown doe eyes looming in my mind. Every time I tried to relax, the anxious feeling dwelling in my body shot through me, growing stronger than ever.

A new picture appeared on the screen as Barry clicked on the nine o'clock news. The camera focused on the building at Radley Sanitarium, stating it would be closing soon, before cutting back to the newscaster in front of Alison's house. _"The four teen girls who were abducted–"_

The computer screen faded to a neon blue as it switched back to the video from the DiLaurentis property, where curious bystanders loitered around. No one had seen or heard from Alison since she met up with Caleb and Ezra in the woods to find the girls. But I knew exactly where she was.

Fifteen minutes after I left the DiLaurentis house with Tanner and Detective Maple, I'd received a text message from Caleb saying that he and Ezra tracked Alison to the Kissing Rock to meet A just as we'd planned. Caleb had inserted a GPS tracking device in a pair of high heels for Alison so they could transport the signal to a satellite, enabling us to follow her right to the girls.

The camera continued to focus on Alison's house, and the time from the clock on the far wall sent me panicking. Maybe A wouldn't wait for Alison to show up after all.

I felt the first tremors of a new kind of fear cascading through me. Every minute that ticked by intensified my dread, but only one thing was on my mind: keeping Spencer safe. She was in the worst possible danger and I was powerless to do anything about it. The realization absolutely terrified me.

"No one moves from that spot, you hear me?"

I looked up as Tanner strode into the room, barking into her black iPhone. She stood in a sleek black suit, but had taken off her jacket, revealing a deep blue button-down shirt.

Tanner hung up, seeming all business. "No sign of Alison or Andrew at the Campbell Farm." There was an edge to her tone as she turned to me. "If you have any idea where she could be right now, you better tell me before it's too late."

She stared down at me with skeptical eyes. Eyes that were trained to filter out lies. My eyes flickered to the wall nervously, ruining my bluff. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. The question made me stall.

But before I could think of a good lie, Barry peered into the computer screen, frowning. "Did you see that?"

When neither of us responded, he nodded toward the video. "Look. Behind the reporter."

Tanner and I leaned in to take a closer look. After rewinding for a few seconds, Barry paused the tape. "There. The guy in the hat."

Sure enough, a boy who resembled a lot like Andrew stood behind the news reporter–tall, muscular physique, with dark blonde hair–and had a charcoal grey baseball cap concealing his face. He walked towards a small navy-blue Sedan that was parked behind the news van truck.

"That could be him," I said. "That could be Andrew."

"Can you get a plate number?" Tanner asked him.

Barry zoomed into the video frame of the car's license plate and enhanced the image, showing three single numbers. "Here we go," he said after a moment. "Blue sedan with a partial plate. 1-8-0. That's the best we're gonna get."

Tanner headed for the hall. "I'll call it in."

I watched as she walked away, my stomach twisting in knots. I had to stop myself from shaking, and I wondered if Tanner noticed. Lying wasn't my forte. The only time I ever lied was for Spencer. Making tough decisions was one of the things I hated most about being a police officer–it was what nearly tore me apart from my relationship with Spencer.

Tanner seemed normal, but I could've sworn she could see right through me.

An hour later, I sat in the back room of the station amidst the indiscreet chatter from the other deputies outside. In the police bullpen, phones were ringing off the hooks. The kidnapping case had been all anyone could talk about.

And then my phone rang, making my heart jump. I'd been feeling on edge ever since Caleb and Ezra drove down the highway to follow Alison to the Kissing Rock. I pulled it out of my pocket, wondering if it was Caleb with any news of the girls' whereabouts.

I answered on the first ring. "Caleb?"

"We're at Tyler State Park," Caleb answered. "Make sure Tanner and the cops get here." My eyes widened. Tyler Park was thirty-one miles away, in the middle of nowhere of Bucks County.

"What happened to Ali?" I glanced at the closed door leading out into the hallway. "She was supposed to meet A at the Kissing Rock."

"We lost her on the highway. She stopped just outside Tyler Park."

A cold sweat gathered at the back of my neck. "What?"

"Just tell Tanner you found the stolen car at Tyler Park," Caleb said. "We'll meet you there after we find Ali." He abruptly hung up. I slipped my phone into its holster, feeling my pulse quicken.

I stood, walking out into the hall toward the break room. The fluorescent lights beamed down on me harshly. Several cops stopped and stared at me as I turned the corner.

I knocked on the solid wood door before quickly entering the room. Tanner looked up from reading a brown leather journal, which I presumed Andrew had used to keep tabs on the girls.

"We got a lead on Campbell's car," I explained breathlessly. "A vehicle matching that description was reported stolen two weeks ago. We got the rest of the plate number and we tracked it to a toll road." My words spurred out incoherently.

"Where?" Tanner asked.

"Outside Tyler State Park," I said.

"Okay, let's go." Tanner stood up, grabbed her jacket, and pulled her car keys out of her pocket as she followed me out to the squad car.

Spencer

Later that night, I stood in my room, staring at the unmarked box of my things from my bedroom back home. After A had sent all of us back to our rooms, I'd found a box sitting on top of my bed filled with all my stuff and had been trying to calm myself down ever since. But as I looked through it, my eyes glazed over.

Nestled in a heap of clothes in the corner of the box was a gold necklace where a Scrabble tile hung from the chain, with the letter of my first initial engraved into the tile. It was the necklace Toby had given me when he'd come over to my house after our cancelled romantic date, a reminder of our night together at the Edgewood Motor Court motel.

Two years ago, Toby and I suspected Jenna was the one who'd planted a jacket Alison had been wearing the night she went missing inside his closet to frame him for her murder, so we stayed overnight at the motel where we thought she had checked into, in the room next door. While we waited, I played a heated game of Scrabble with Toby, which he gleefully beat me. We ended up cuddling in bed together, with me sleeping in his shirt, as I didn't have anything else to wear that night. Then, outside in the parking lot the following morning, Toby kissed me for the very first time.

A new memory swarmed through me then, pulling me in against my control. I could see Toby's face, hear his velvet-soft voice, remembering the way he'd held me against him the day I'd lost my necklace. It had happened during a rainy day back in February. I'd gone into a crying fit when I realized that I couldn't find it and tore apart my room looking for it. Toby had come upstairs into my bedroom and found me in hysterics. "Spence, what's wrong?" he'd asked me, taking my hands.

I looked up into his eyes, saw the concern on his face, and couldn't seem to stop my lower lip from trembling as more tears slid down my cheeks. "I lost the necklace," I wept. "I've looked everywhere, I can't find it."

Toby reached out to stroke my cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away the tears. "Then I'll help you find it. I don't care if you lost the necklace, I care about you. I love you."

When I gazed back into his eyes, I realized how true those words were, and my heart instantly melted.

"I love you, too," I whispered. I reached up on my tiptoes to meet his lips, and we kissed with the sound of the rain hitting against the glass window outside.

Toby cupped the back of my head as he moved his lips slowly against mine, lingering. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him, every touch sending tingles all over my skin. In that moment, I knew there was no one else for me. And there was no doubt in my mind that we would always be meant for each other, of how well we fit.

I sighed against Toby's lips, and he pulled me against his chest, stroking my hair gently. I closed my eyes, feeling my heartbeat slow.

Suddenly, the rest of the world came hurtling back, and the agony pierced me as I grappled with the irreparable loss. The hollow sadness that I'd been able to ignore resurfaced, overtaking me. _Toby_.

My chest tightened thinking about him, struggling to breathe. I didn't want to be here. I needed Toby, my safe place to land. I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from crying.

My fingers clutched at the necklace. Even in the dim light of my room, it gleamed, the gold glinting like diamonds. I closed my eyes, picturing Toby's blue eyes and angel face.

Then something occurred to me. I'd lost my necklace months ago, and I hardly found it a coincidence that it suddenly reappeared after A kidnapped me and my friends. I felt my whole body leaden as I had a sinking thought. Stashing away our stuff in orderly boxes constituted advanced planning, so Charles must have been preparing to lock us up here for years. What did he want? How was he connected to the DiLaurentis family? Staying here in my room was not an option right now.

I slipped from my room, with no idea where I was going. The only thing guiding my sense of direction were the twisting hallways of the house. As I walked, I stroked the Scrabble tile necklace with my forefinger, memorizing the lines and details, the way it felt in my hand. Toby had given me this necklace as a symbol of his devotion to me. It was the only thing I had left of him now.

My somber thoughts were interrupted by the soft voices coming from down the hall, and I noticed Emily and Aria had gathered in Hanna's room. I glanced at the door cautiously. Part of me wanted to see my friends, to find out what they knew about the strange boxes appearing in our rooms, but another part of me was still too unsettled by this place. Too many things about the Dollhouse filled me with terror. Not only by A, but my own choices as well. What could I have possibly done to Charles that would make him want to trap my friends and I in here?

Taking a deep breath, I followed Aria and Emily into Hanna's room. The walls were painted with black and pink floral pedals against creamy beige wallpaper and only a few lamps glowed, illuminating the low light of the broad space. Another security camera was hitched above in the very corner of the ceiling, blinking a bright red. I found Hanna sitting on the floor at the edge of her upholstered bed, reading a newspaper from the _Rosewood Observer_ , which was very unlike Hanna. Her face was tight. Emily was holding a gold swimming medal she'd won at one of her swim meets in ninth grade. Aria clutched her pig puppet, Pigtunia, in her hands that her dad had gotten her when she was ten. Something was wrong.

"You got a box, too," Emily said, looking at Hanna. Still, Hanna didn't look up.

Aria gripped Pigtunia in her hand furiously, clenching her teeth together. "A is making this house our home."

"You guys, Charles took our stuff before he took us." I looked at Aria and Emily, holding the necklace carefully in between my fingers. "I thought that I lost this ages ago."

"A planned on binging us here the whole time," Emily realized. "To live like his dolls."

Hanna stood up, the paper in her hands. "This article is about our families. All of them." She handed it to Aria. "They're barely hanging onto hope."

 _Hope breeds eternal misery._ The words echoed in my head from the distant memory, the same words that had come out of my own mouth. The room spun, making me dizzy. My knees threatened to give out while I stared at Hanna. Had I known how true those words were now, I never would have uttered them.

"I don't wanna hear that," Emily said. "Like you said that's probably not even real."

I could barely hear her from the blood rushing in my ears. I peered over Aria's shoulder at the newspaper and scanned the page. I read the section four times before it sunk in.

"Well, real or not, they don't know where we are," Aria said, her eyes watering. "They don't even know if we're alive."

I felt my throat constrict, thinking about where Toby was. A sad, tender look crossed Emily's face and she looked down.

"Can you just imagine what they're going through?" Aria added.

"It plays in my head on a loop," I said quietly. "Day after day, night after night."

I felt my insides twisting in anguish, picturing the panic and the worry Toby was suffering at my expense. Surely, he believed it was his fault that I'd been kidnapped and that I was possibly dead. Maybe time had weakened his will to find me, to keep the hope alive. The pain burned through my chest from the thought–the aching loss that sent wreaking waves of hurt through my limbs.

I was gripped in a sudden agony of despair so intense that it caused me physical, emotional pain as I considered the idea that Toby would have stopped looking for me. My eyes glassed over with tears. What if I never saw him again? He _couldn't_ give up on me. I didn't want him to lose hope. I was still here, and I was alive.

Aria whirled around to face the camera attached to the ceiling, her eyes blazing with fury. "I will kill you for what you're doing to our families! Do you hear me?"

Emily and I quickly grabbed Aria by the shoulders, trying to calm her. "Aria, stop," I said to her. "Calm down."

Aria stopped squirming, but her eyes stayed focused intently on A's security camera, which continued to blink bright red. I realized that it reminded me of one of those red-eyed monsters from Grimm fairytales.

I reread the newspaper article on one of the pages. It read, _The four teen girls who were abducted a month ago are still missing. Their friend, Alison DiLaurentis' murder conviction was recently overturned due to evidence of Mona Vanderwaal's possible survival. DiLaurentis was offered police protection, but declined, citing the need to heal privately with her family. Andrew Campbell, a star athlete and honor roll student of Rosewood High School, remains the top suspect in the kidnapping case and is presumed to be dangerous._

"Not knowing if we're okay has made my mom physically sick," Hanna said glumly. "They took her to the hospital." She sniffled.

I looked up, feeling more thick tears blurring my vision.

Aria put a hand on Hanna's arm. "Hanna…"

I pressed my lips together, choking back a sob. "Hanna…" I trailed off, when suddenly an idea struck me.

I set down the newspaper and searched through Hanna's box for something to write with so A couldn't see. "Let's just all help Hanna unpack," I told the others.

I found a plush brown bear wedged in between a set of My Little Ponies and a makeup kit. Emily and Aria looked at me quizzically.

I looked to Hanna and handed her the stuffed bear, who was staring at me with a blank expression on her face. "Hanna, I'm gonna help you unpack." I lowered my voice. "We're gonna find Mona and we're gonna get out of here tonight."

"How?" Emily whispered.

Instead of answering, I grabbed a red Etch-A-Sketch from the top of the box. "Did you guys know that, um, I won an Etch A Sketch contest when I was in third grade?" I stuttered.

"Of course you did," Aria said flatly.

"I can draw some really, really pretty pictures." I made my voice as soft as I could. "The generator still shuts down with the switch-over."

"Yeah, I heard it too, but I was too scared to leave my room," Emily whispered back, eyeing the camera.

I turned the knobs on the Etch-A-Sketch to scribble a note across the board: _Charles is a DiLaurentis._ When I was finished, I lifted it over to show Aria, Emily, and Hanna what I had written.

"See?" I stared at them meaningfully, trying to get the message through to them.

Everyone stared at my note with wide eyes, looking stunned. Aria glanced involuntarily towards the camera, reminding us that Charles was watching.

"How are we supposed to get into the vault without A punishing us again?" Aria whispered.

"When the generator shuts down, we get into the vault," I said quietly. "But we have to do it fast. We only have three minutes until the power turns back on again."

Emily hesitated. "What if we get caught again?"

"We won't this time," I replied confidently. "We wait until midnight to go into the vault, so A won't be watching. Then we'll grab Mona and run." My determination was fueled by the desire to escape this horrid hellhole tonight.

"Let's do it," Aria said.

We all turned to her in surprise. "I want to end this," she explained.

"It might work–and it's our only option," I whispered.

"How are we supposed to get Mona out?" Emily asked silently. "We have no idea where she is."

"After we leave the vault, we'll look for Mona," I said calmly. "Charles won't be able to stop us once we're out."

"And if this doesn't work?" Hanna asked skeptically.

"I have a plan. If we don't try this tonight, we may never get another chance. Charles could hurt Mona." Despite my brave words, I was shaking on the inside. I thought about Toby, miserable and alone, and then tried to muster up some courage.

We could do this. All of us could.

I was lying on the side of my bed, but I was too wired to sleep. The only light in the room was coming from the lamp on the bedside table. My mind spun as I went over the plan for the eighth time that night. This wasn't going to be easy. If Charles was in fact a DiLaurentis, then all of his most valuable possessions were inside the vault and we could try to use them in exchange for our freedom. But there was still the important question of _how_.

After I'd snuck into the vault on the night of our fake prom, Charles had lurked behind me, ready to pounce. But when Mona entered the room looking for me, he mysteriously disappeared. He couldn't have magically vanished out of thin air–he must have found some other way out. I was sure there had to be a trap door or a secret entryway in the game room leading into the vault, since the vault was on the other side of the room. But the strategy that mattered most were the number of steps from the prom room to the vault, which I had counted in methodical order of eighty-four steps. There was no way Charles could have walked the distance between those two rooms in only a matter of seconds without a secret door. But there was more. During Alison's murder trial, Emily, Aria and I had gone over to the Vanderwaal house to look for clues to the murder. As we searched Mona's old room, I'd found a handheld mirror on the dresser and removed the glass, pulling out a notecard: _Chandelier's rituals. Sister launched lair. A ruler's list chained._

I'd stared at Mona's note hard. It looked as if it had been spelled incorrectly, as if it was saying something different. Mona had the IQ of a hacking genius–why would she be putting together random words? Something about the note seemed strange at the time, and now I knew why. It was actually an anagram for Charles DiLaurentis. The sentences had been spelled out in perfect chronicle grammar, but the same amount of words were arranged in different order, which spelled out C-H-A-R-L-E-S D-I-L-A-U-R-E-N-T-I-S.

And then I heard it. The loud, clanging sound drummed in my ears and buzzed, vibrating throughout the walls of the house.

I sat up in bed to the sound of the generator shutting down again. I was acutely alert, my skin tingling to life. I reached for the doorknob slowly, listening for the noise to stop. When the power shut off, I pulled the door open. I sprinted down the hall towards Hanna's room and peered inside the room, lingering in the doorway.

"Hanna," let's go," I said urgently when I spotted her. Hanna had been sitting in the small, empty space of her closet with a picture frame in her hands.

Hanna quickly got to her feet, and we raced through the dark hallway. When we met up with Aria and Emily, I hastily guided them through the blackness. I finally broke the silence, keeping my voice low in case Charles was still listening.

"Chandelier's rituals," I said, recalling the note Mona had left for us. "Sister launched lair, a ruler's list chained. They're all anagrams."

"For Charles DiLaurentis." Hanna said the words slowly, emphasizing the last words.

I marched around a corner. "Some of those toys in Ali's room were hers, but some of them were his."

"I feel like they grew up together," Aria broke in.

We moved deeper within the labyrinth of the house, twisting through corridors and more hallways. At last, we stood at a charcoal granite-stone door that led to the vast game room beyond.

"If I'm right, everything that matters most to Charles is in this vault," I said. "And if we can get in there, we can use what's inside to bargain our way out." I turned around to look directly at them.

"Yeah, but Mona said we won't make it to the vault before the power comes on," Emily argued.

"Okay, well if I'm right, this is as far as we need to go," I replied stubbornly. I yanked open the heavy door, making a low whine. "I counted the steps to the vault from the prom room."

I rushed to the cherry-wood bunk bed that was overlapping with big, stuffed animals and flung them to the floor to clear the bed.

"Of course you did," Emily said in a slightly annoyed voice.

"It's eighty-four," I countered, ignoring her. "And that's just one hallway over. Coming back this way, it's eighty-one steps. I think the vault is on the other side of this wall."

"Yeah, but how does that help us?" Emily asked. "We can't bust through there."

"Charles disappeared like Houdini when Mona came into the room," I said anxiously. "So there's gotta be like a secret passageway, or like a trapdoor or something."

I crawled onto the lower mattress and traced my hands along the back of the cement wall, searching for an opening of some kind of door. Then I pounded on it with the heels of my palms, trying to break through the wall completely.

After a couple minutes, my palms started to ache and tingle with numbness. Still, I continued to hit the wall with extreme force, trying to figure out where the possible entryway inside the vault was, but I couldn't feel anything hollow.

"Wait, do you guys hear that?" Hanna said, sounding panicked. "I think the generator is coming back on."

I strained my ears to listen for the sound, but couldn't hear anything. Suddenly, the lamps on the tables flickered on and a high-pitched siren blared inside the room. I covered my ears, trying to block out the roaring noise.

"He knows that we're out," Aria yelled.

"Just help me move it." I moved to the end of the bunk bed and clutched at the solid wood, trying to push it back. "Come on!"

I pushed with all my strength, but it wouldn't budge. Nothing was working, even when I leaned my weight against the bed to try to make it move. I let out a groan as I pushed harder with my hands.

"There's something behind this," Emily announced.

I looked over across the room and saw Emily hovering over a stark white cabinet. Several German antique dolls adorned the top, and the glass doors were filled with tons of board games. A small, bright light shone from a crack in the wall.

She pressed her hands against the cabinet and started to move it back. "Come on, it could be like a passageway or something."

Aria, Hanna and I moved over to cabinet and helped Emily push it away from the wall. Finally, it scraped across the hardwood floor. When we scooted it forward, I noticed a metal-looking air vent nailed into the wall. Emily dug her nails into the grille of the vent, grunting in frustration as she tugged off the steel door.

A second later, the siren stopped. A nervous, jittery feeling coursed through me. After a pause, Emily crawled into the open space. "Come on!"

"Go." I pushed Aria forward and climbed in after Emily.

I pushed my hands and knees forward, crawling through the low, arched vent. Inside it was dark, but I could just make out a sphere of light seeping in from the other end of the entryway. My pulse quickened in fear as we hurried through the vent. The ground beneath our feet began to turn cold, making me shiver.

We faced another steel door with small, open gaps. Emily shoved it open and climbed through into the room. The door fell over with a _clang_. I crawled out and stood, surveying the room.

Unlike the rest of the rooms, the walls were paneled in wood, the floor carpeted in a posh, thin burgundy carpeted floor. There were no windows, but large photographs lined the walls everywhere. Elegant, silver-colored chairs were arranged by a popcorn machine, and the table sitting beside it held a video projector with a velvet red cloth underneath. Beside it lay a stack of film reels. In the middle of the room was a large, white blackout cloth. It reminded me a movie theatre.

I gaped in astonishment at an ivory infant's shirt that hung inside a black wooden frame on the wall. The center of the shirt read, _IT'S A BOY!_ on a round, blue sticker. Two baby portraits were shown underneath, along with two matching square boxes of the birth announcements.

Near the door was a glass side table, full of childhood toys inside. Framed photographs of two little boys sat on the surface. They looked to be toddlers, with pale blonde hair, and enchanting blue eyes–the same boys from the movie that I'd watched when I had snuck in after running out of the prom room.

"A does have a soul," Emily said, sounding bewildered.

I walked over to the movie projector and clicked on the power button. The others turned as the same video I'd seen started to play.

"Wanna say goodnight to your sister…and give a little kiss?" I listened to the sound of Jessica DiLaurentis' voice. "What a good boy you are."

Jessica was kneeling in front of the Campbell barn with the small toddlers, and they leaned down to kiss a baby wrapped in a yellow blanket. "Oh, good boys, good boys."

I took a couple steps and stared straight into the camera. "Game on, Charles." The mechanical whirring continued and the small light flashed red, indicating that Charles was still watching.

My body filled with rage, and the sudden adrenaline made me forget all my fear. Turning, I reached out to grab the reel of film, holding it still while it rolled. I stared at the blackout cloth with fierce determination. Suddenly, flames of fire licked the film projector. A sudden bright, orange light flickered across the screen, illuminating the dimness of the room.

I pulled the burning reel out of the projector and held it up to the camera for Charles to see. "We want Mona back!" I demanded.

When nothing happened, I glanced back at the others questionably. Aria nodded. "Let's torch this place."

Hanna pulled out a porcelain baby doll from an oval-shaped crib that faced an empty fireplace. I lifted the reel to the doll, and it burst into flames within seconds.

Hanna raised the lit up doll as she stared at the camera, her eyes flashing. Then she tossed it into the crib, watching as the flames leapt up.

Aria looked at us uneasily. "Guys, what if A is not watching us? What if we're the only ones here?"

The fire started to spread. Sparks crackled from the crib and the flickering flames swept rapidly over the floor. The room smelled like burning hair.

We all jumped back, frightened. The heat from the fire warmed my skin. Terror seized me as I felt shivers of panic trembling through my body.

"What do we do?" Emily yelled in panic. "It's spreading too fast."

I looked at the others. "There's just no way I'm dying in this hellhole."

"We are not giving up," Hanna added.

We looked around the room frantically for something, _anything_ , to stop the fire. The flames flew higher, engulfing the crib and everything in it. I felt my stomach clench up.

"Okay, we–we just need to find a blanket or something," Aria stuttered.

Emily started to pull down a red curtain that was tied back nearby the vent. "Here." She turned to Aria. "Aria, help me pull this down."

Aria and Emily yanked down the curtain and then each let out a terrified gasp. Hanna and I turned around and gasped as well.

Standing in the glass partition facing us was Charles. He was dressed in his usual black hoodie, but a black mask covered his face, making it hard to distinguish any facial features.

"Oh my god," Emily gasped.

I looked through the glass with wide, stunned eyes. Charles stood motionless behind the glass, but there was something in his stance that made me think he wasn't just here for the fire. I felt extremely unsettled being so close to him.

Emily started to panic. "Okay. Grab everything. The pictures, the baby clothes, and throw them in the fire."

Aria stared angrily through the glass window at Charles. "Say goodbye to your soul."

One by one, we tore the picture frames from the walls and grabbed every one of Charles' childhood toys that we could find, and tossed them into the pool of flames. Within seconds, the fire poured out, consuming everything in its path, fueled by the dolls and picture frames that were thrown in.

When I turned around, Charles was gone. A moment later, the house's fire alarm started to blare. I stared at the raging fire as the sprinklers above the ceiling shot out, spraying us in water, followed by the click of a lock. I turned, and saw the door to the vault opening.

"Let's go," I said, heading for the opened door. "Let's go!" Aria, Hanna, Emily and I sprinted out of the room, racing through the halls.

I didn't look behind me as I ran, paying attention to only the ground beneath my feet. We ran to every door, searching every crevice, every hallway for Mona.

"Mona!" I cried. "Mona, where are you?"

Thick smoke poured out from the vault. It filled my lungs, and I struggled to breathe. We rushed through the dark corridors, calling for Mona. I flung open the door in front of me and it opened up into a large, dimly lit stone space. A wide, round open hole was set into the center of the cavernous room.

It looked like a well, the stone curving above the floor. The hole was huge and black. There were no windows, except for the wall lights by the door, swallowing everything in near darkness.

"I'm down here," a voice came from far below. "Help me, please." It was Mona.

I leaned over the large gap, and my jaw dropped. Standing at the bottom of the dark hole was Mona. Her arms were wrapped around herself fearfully, and she still wore the same yellow top from three weeks ago. Smudges of dirt covered her arms and face, and her hair was tousled and dirty. The hole had to be a twenty-foot drop, covered in thick dirt at the bottom.

"Oh my god," Mona sobbed hysterically. "Help me, please."

Aria pointed to a bundle of thick rope tied together by the hole, and I immediately grabbed it off the pavement. "Hold on, hold on, hold on," I said.

"Please get me out," I heard Mona plead.

"Mona, hang on," Hanna reassured her. "We're gonna get you out of here."

Mona's echoing whimpers turned into a wail, her sobs growing more desperate. Aria, Hanna, and Emily and I struggled to untangle the rope as the crying intensified.

"Are you okay?" I asked Mona.

"Mona, just hang on, okay?" Hanna called. "We're gonna get you out."

Untying the last knot, we threw the rope over the edge, letting it drop to the ground below. Mona's body trembled as she ran towards the rope. Then, we gripped it as hard as we could and pulled her up.

Hanna and Aria grabbed her hands as she climbed up, swinging her legs over. Hanna and I put our arms around Mona and began to move her towards the door, at the end of the hall. Aria clung onto me as I helped Hanna guide Mona through the maze of hallways.

Emily rushed ahead of us, leading the way to the exit. Everything was engulfed in gloom, but not black. A soft light from above flooded onto the floor, illuminating the wide space.

"Come on, it's this way," Emily said. The sound of her voice echoed through the blackness.

There was a squared-off dead end at the flat, cement-paved wall, where a ladder disappeared upwards into the long, cylindrical tunnel. Emily didn't hesitate as she hurried toward the far side of the wall. She positioned her feet on the bottom of the ladder and began to climb up. Hanna, Mona, and Aria followed quickly after her.

I climbed up next, pushing myself up the steel ladder until my hands grew worn with soreness and my knees scathed against the bars. The sound of my feet on the bars of the ladder echoed through the emptiness.

The tunnel continued to move upwards, taking us further away from the ground, making me claustrophobic. At the end of the silo were thick, heavy iron doors. I was too afraid to look up when I heard a whining above, like the grating of metal.

Emily climbed through the doors that now stood open and hurried on into a dim light that glowed ahead. I squinted against the faint brightness.

The others hurried through the silo, coughing and panting heavily from the smoke that was wafting up. Smoke poured into the structure, enveloping me like a sheet. It filled my nose and my throat closed.

Voices from the other side of the doors filled my ears, and my heart stopped. I knew who that was.

We all tumbled out through the billowing smoke and I glanced around me in relief, where Ezra, Caleb, and Alison stood by the doors. Sirens wailed in the distance as fire trucks stopped at the back of the Dollhouse. Police cars and ambulance vehicles were everywhere.

Everyone was embracing, oblivious to the flurry of activity around us. Hanna sobbed in Caleb's arms, holding onto him tightly. Emily was moving quickly towards Ali and then they hugged.

"You're okay," Ezra said breathlessly as he picked up Aria easily into his arms. "I thought I'd lost you." His curly, dark-brown hair looked tangled and there was a bruise on his left hand.

I had my arms around Mona's shoulders extra tight, and she clung onto me. Cops got out of the cruisers and ran for the house with guns to search the house, but I didn't see Toby anywhere. An indistinct chatter fell over the yard as they filtered out of the trees.

A feeling of dread swept through me then. What if something terrible had happened to Toby? Maybe he was hurt. I'd been missing all those weeks and he had no idea where I was, not knowing if I was even alive. And then I remembered the dream I'd had of Toby looking over my file. The police station. That dark room. The pained look on his face. _We haven't given up yet,_ the police officer had told him. Toby could have lost all hope of finding me, and he might have…

 _No…_

As my eyes scanned frantically for Toby, news helicopters hovered overhead.

"Spencer?"

Relief washed over me. Toby was standing among the other police officers, staring desperately at me with concern. He put his gun back into its holster when his eyes found mine, focusing on me as if he couldn't believe he had found me. My heart skipped several beats.

Toby was just as devastatingly handsome as I'd remembered. He was tall and lean, but muscular, and his normally dark-brown windswept hair was combed back. Gorgeous deep blue eyes were set on a well, high cheek-boned face, with kissable full pink lips.

"Toby," I breathed. "Oh my god."

Glancing back at Mona, I ran towards Toby, trying to close those last few feet separating us, not caring who was watching. Then I threw myself into his arms, gasping. Tears streaked down my face.

Toby's arms immediately wrapped around me, holding me tightly against him, and a sense of security and comfort washed over me instantly. I was finally safe. Toby rocked me back and forth as he held me securely in his strong arms.

I felt his heart beating against my chest, and I clutched myself closer to him. Toby pressed his face into my hair as I sobbed into his shoulder. After a moment, I pressed my hand to his cheek and breathlessly crushed my mouth to his, soaking him all in. Our tongues molded together effortlessly.

We made a series of smacking and slurping noises as we kissed feverishly, and I moved my lips against his in a passionate hunger. I grabbed the back of Toby's neck and kissed him harder, whimpering against his lips.

"We know who it is," I gasped. "We have a name."

"It's Andrew, babe," Toby said. "And we're gonna get him."

Though I couldn't help but feel fluttery at the mention of his new nickname for me, I stared back at him in confusion. His eyes flashed with determination and he set his jaw. Before I could say another word, Toby pulled me back into his arms and continued to rock me. I clung onto him, pressing my face into his shoulder.

Andrew was A? how could he and Charles be the same person? I'd been sure Charles was related to the DiLaurentis family.

"Hey, there's another girl down here," I heard one of the policemen shout.

Toby and I pulled out of each other's arms and looked toward the Dollhouse in alarm. The voice was coming from underground. The others turned to see what was going on.

A minute later, we heard the policemen's walkie-talkies crackling as they wheeled out a white-blonde girl strapped to a stretcher. She lay very still, staring blankly into nothing as if in a state of shock. She had on the same yellow top that A forced Mona to wear all those weeks in the Dollhouse. But there was something very familiar about her angular face, light blue eyes, and full, pretty lips.

The police told us to stand back, saying that the girl, Sara Harvey, had been found and needed medical attention immediately. Toby and I crossed our arms beside Emily, Aria, Ezra, and Hanna and Caleb as we watched the paramedics load Sara into the back of the Rosewood ambulance van.

I sorted through the jumble of chaotic information that were churning in my head. Sara Harvey was the girl who went missing around the same time Alison had when she'd been presumed to be dead. And then there were Sara's friends, Claire and Tina. Several months after we'd discovered that Ali was in fact alive, Hanna and Emily searched for girls who looked similar to Alison to find the real body and found Claire and Tina. Sara was living in Courtland when she disappeared, which was 414 miles from where Alison had been when her attacker hit her in the back of the head with a rock.

I tried to think of a logical explanation that could tell me what A would want with Sara–why A would have been holding her captive all this time.

Emily shook her head in disbelief. "I met Sara's friends, remember?" She looked at everyone with anxious eyes. "She lived in Courtland. She went missing around the same time Ali did."

Toby and I glanced towards the ambulance as they drove Sara safely away. Detective Barry, the Rosewood officer who had helped Toby and Tanner find us, was questioning Alison nearby. He jotted down a few lines in his notepad as Ali spoke.

"Has she been down there the whole time?" Hanna asked.

A long, tense silence filled the air as we looked at one another nervously. My skin prickled with fear. _Oh God._ If Sara had been held captive the whole time, that meant my friends and I weren't the only ones A was after.

Mona sat on the edge of one of the ambulance vans, wrapped in a wool blanket. The paramedics spoke to her, asking questions about her faked death. One of the tan-coated medics shone a small light into her eyes, looking for any sign of trauma. Then Emily turned away, walking over to Alison, who was still occupied by the police.

As soon as Emily's back was turned, Toby moved to my side. "C'mon, let me take you to the hospital." He put his hand on my arm soothingly. "The doctors will want to check you for some procedure tests."

When I let out a sigh, Toby reached down to squeeze my hand. I looked up at him gratefully, then stood up on my toes to softly kiss his lips.

Two EMTs escorted me into the back of the ambulance and offered me a wool blanket, but Toby refused it, wrapping his thick Rosewood PD jacket around my shoulders instead. He had insisted on staying with me inside the van on the ride over to the hospital and the paramedics reluctantly agreed. Naturally, the police separated me from Hanna, Aria, Emily, and Mona and had us driven in separate vehicles.

Suddenly, my body grew very cold and the world around me spun, seeming to wobble and blur in front of my eyes. I slumped down on the seat inside the ambulance and I let the sobs emanate from my chest. I heard someone speaking to me, but I couldn't understand her. "She's going through shock," I finally heard. "Try to keep her calm." My field of vision was so narrow that I couldn't tell who it was–only that it wasn't Toby. The woman shut the back doors and went around to the front of the van before starting it.

Then Toby pulled me onto his lap and tucked my head underneath his chin protectively as the ambulance rolled down the road. I felt my body begin to shake hard.

"Shh, Spencer," Toby soothed as he rubbed my shoulders. "It's alright, you're safe."

But the image behind my eyes refused to leave. I could still see the wires of the switchboard cutting into my wrists until the screaming alarms pierced my skull.

I squeezed my eyes shut and sobbed into his shirt.

"I know," he whispered.

I buried my face against his muscular chest, and he draped his jacket closer around me. "It's okay, you're safe now. You're with me."

I pressed myself closer to Toby and he tightened his arms around me, forming a cage of protection around me. He pressed his forehead against mine, his thumb tracing across my cheek.

As I stared at his beautiful face, it suddenly struck me that Toby was really here, holding me in his arms, and I started sobbing again. It was such a stupid reaction. I was alive–I should have been happy. But instead all I could feel was the trembling terror that I'd almost died, killing every chance of being with Toby ever again.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing my back.

"Oh, Toby," I cried. Fresh tears filled my eyes. "I thought I'd never see you again." My voice broke.

Toby pressed his forehead against mine again and with his free hand, took my smaller one in it, rubbing small, comforting circles across the skin. "You could never lose me."

He brushed his lips all over my face, peppering me with kisses. "Oh, Spencer," he breathed. "I thought I'd lost you. I've never been happier to have you back in my arms than right now."

I closed my eyes at Toby's sweet breath blew in my face and sighed. He held me tighter. Toby couldn't seem to keep his eyes away from my face. I stared back at him, his blue eyes soft.

His fingertips traced the shape of my bottom lip. "You look so beautiful."

"And you're a terrible liar," I whispered back, but I couldn't hide the smile that crossed my features.

He shook his head, gazing at me gently. "No, you are." Then he met my lips, moving them deeply against mine.

I curled myself into a ball against his chest and he hugged me to him. We stayed like that for the entire drive over. I didn't want to be apart from him ever again, not for one minute. Our future was intact, and our happily ever after had come back to life. I wanted to be with Toby forever.

My happy fairytale was back. The prince had returned, the dark spell broken.

A million unresolved questions swarmed in my mind, but only one important one stuck: who was Charles DiLaurentis?

For now, I held my tongue. I didn't want to ruin the moment, here with Toby. I didn't want to think about the person who was after me right now–about whether I was still in danger. I was so much happier in the comfort and safety of his arms.

I lay quietly in his embrace, memorizing his face. He stared back at mine as if he was doing the same. Every now and then, Toby would lean down and kiss me–his soft lips brushing against my hair, my forehead, my ear.

It felt just like heaven.

After a while my body grew exhausted with sleep. So when Toby's arms tightened around me, I panicked into his chest. I didn't want to miss a second of the precious time I had with him. Who knew how much longer we had before the nurses at the hospital tore us away? I fought against the weariness in my limbs and my heavy lids.

Then Toby pressed his lips to the hollow under my ear. " _Tu es mon vrai amour._ "

I was home.


	3. Chapter 3

3\. Savior

Toby

I sprinted through the trees of the black woods, my feet crunching over the decaying leaves as I drew closer to Andrew Campbell. It was too dark to see clearly, but the sound of heavy grunting cut through the air and I hurried my pursuit.

While my partner and I, Lorenzo Calderon, tracked Andrew to the far north of Tyler Park, the other two cops traveled to the west to ambush him if Lorenzo and I lost him. We'd been tracking Andrew all over Tyler State Park for an hour and had been chasing him ever since we found the prison van that he'd used to kidnap the girls at his uncle's farm, the old Campbell Apple Farm.

Along with journals and books in the back of the van, the cops and I also discovered a pocket knife, tracking devices leading straight to the Dollhouse, some black leather gloves, and a few heavy jackets proving him to be the girls' abductor, which we all collected as evidence. What was even more disturbing was one of the entries in Andrew's journal declaring how much he hated Mona, and how Alison and the rest of girls represented the Feminization of Society.

I clenched my jaw, thinking of that last entry about Spencer, how she was a smug overachiever who would do whatever it took to get what she wanted. We knew now why Andrew wanted to hurt the girls, and that's what terrified me.

Footsteps trampled over the forest ground ahead of me, and I ducked through a wall of thick and twisting fir trees. We were getting close. I knew every inch of the spare forest and its many trails in Rosewood's woods, as I used to take those same shortcuts when I used to run off, although going straight through was faster. I never really had a home until I found Spencer.

I listened for Andrew's movements as I moved deeper into the woods, with Lorenzo on my heels. Finally, we came to a clearing and I saw his dark shape racing towards the other side. I ran in the direction, then lunged at him from the back. I felt Andrew's back whiplash under the impact when I slammed into him, tackling him to the ground.

Then we were both falling, rolling over into an endless pit of darkness, and we tumbled downhill. The green, draping ferns sticking out from the sides of the incline scraped my arms through my dark-navy police uniform as Andrew and I hit the bottom, crashing against the uneven dirt ground.

I landed on top of Andrew, pinning him down before he could rise, his hands struggling against mine. In that instant, pure fury surged through me as images flashed through my head: Spencer's smiling face, of _him_ striking a crushing blow to her gut followed by her tortured scream.

I pushed myself off Andrew quickly and grabbed hold of his arm furiously, dragging him up onto his feet.

"Jeez, Toby," Andrew pleaded. "Listen to me."

I wasn't interested in listening to anything he had to say; I was beyond that now. The sight of Andrew's feigned innocent face heightened my anger, focusing in one bright spot like a beacon. I wanted to tear him apart. Andrew had hurt her, _my Spencer_. She could have died.

Unable to control my bubbling rage, I brought down my full strength onto Andrew, grunting as I drove my fist hard into his stomach. He let out a painful cry from the blow. But I didn't stop there. I hit him again and again, unleashing my fury at the anxiety and dread I'd felt all those weeks Spencer was kidnapped.

Before I could swing at him again, a flashlight beam fell over my face, blinding me. Lorenzo stood over the slope, moving the bob of light over Andrew and I. He looked more like an Abercrombie model than an officer of the law with high cheekbones and light brown-colored skin, had cropped black hair, and was one of the younger officers on the Rosewood police force who had been assigned to as my new partner.

"Give me five minutes," I called up to him. I seized Andrew's arm tighter when he fought against my grasp. "Walk away!"

I yanked Andrew back towards me, getting ready for him.

"Not gonna happen," Lorenzo said, a serious expression on his face. He moved down the hill, drawing closer to us. "Do your job."

I clenched my jaw, my mouth in a tight line. The logical part of my brain clicked then, bringing me back to my senses. After I'd gotten Spencer back, I'd stopped playing by the rules of the law. Except I couldn't afford to do that now. As much as I wanted to tear Andrew limb from limb, I had to keep Spencer safe and I couldn't do that with her captor on the loose.

Then I tugged at Andrew and bent his arms behind his back, forcing him forward. "You have the right to remain silent," I told him. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

I reached behind my back to pull out a pair of handcuffs from my police belt, slapping them onto his wrists. I heard the clicking of metal as I locked them into place.

It took us forty-five minutes to drive back to the police station. When Lorenzo and I pulled into the lot, we got out, towing Andrew through the police station entrance. There were about a dozen squad cars in the parking lot and inside other deputies turned to get a good look at Andrew, their eyes bugging out. The little black leather chairs in the waiting area were empty except for a few car theft felons.

As Lorenzo and I started for the jail cells, a strawberry-blonde, blue-eyed police officer from the FBI team appeared from around the corner in a burgundy tweed suit, a cell phone pressed to her ear. "What the hell is going on over there? I need an ADP stat."

When she saw the two of us with Andrew in handcuffs, she snapped her phone shut. "Take him to the holding cell."

We led Andrew toward the back of the building, stopping at a dimly lit, dank hallway where a long line of rooms were each separated by teal-green walls. The only thing visible inside were the frosted glass windows in the doors.

Lorenzo unlocked Andrew's handcuffs and put him inside the cell, shutting the door behind him. After Andrew was locked safely away, we met with the cop, who identified herself as Agent Cruz, and she told us everything she knew. That Andrew Campbell was a suspect in the girls' kidnapping, how the FBI had tracked down a paper trail connecting him to the missile silo where Spencer, Aria, Hanna and Emily were held captive and the construction work that had done at the Dollhouse.

Lorenzo and I were helping the FBI build the entire case against Andrew because he was now a threat against five teenage girls, and now the IRS was interested to find out how a high school boy could afford all the tools and construction for a torture house, but mostly I was trying to protect Spencer from harm. I knew what Andrew was capable of; A was an expert at staying hidden in the shadows and manipulating people into keeping secrets from the people they loved.

I glanced at my gold pocket watch, the one Spencer had given me after I'd graduated from the Harrisburg Police Academy. It was just past midnight. I had to get back to Spencer; I didn't want her to wake up alone in the hospital.

As I started to flip the top closed, the shiny gold of the watch glinted, reflecting the engravement inside: _You're my once upon a time_. Staring at those words filled my heart, as if it could burst from love. Spencer wanted me the way I wanted her–forever and always. The only fear I had was that I wouldn't be good enough for her, to be able to provide for her the way a man should, that I might hold her back from all that she could be. But knowing she loved me as much as I loved her made my soul complete.

Spencer was my happy ending. Forever.

Spencer

When I opened my eyes, I was blinded by harsh bright, white lights. I was in an unfamiliar white room, propped up on a hard bed with rails separated by a pastel-colored curtain. The window on the other side of the room was covered in long vertical blinds, but I could see the midnight blue night sky peeking out. Pillows resting against my head and back were flat and lumpy. I heard beeping coming from somewhere to my right, and the steady hiss of a machine.

My hand was connected to an IV tube, and something was taped across my index finger, keeping it in place. I realized I was in the Rosewood Hospital.

"You're awake," a voice said in relief.

A blurry figure swam over me. The guy had high cheekbones, deep blue eyes, and brown hair that fell in a mess around his beautiful face.

"Toby?" When I lifted my eyes to meet his, I felt an unexpected swirl of dizziness. He was sitting in the chair close to the bed, holding my tube-free hand. He'd changed out of his police uniform and now wore a charcoal gray T-shirt and dark blue jeans.

Toby rubbed his thumb across my skin. It was a comforting, gentle caress. "Shhh, it's okay," he said softly.

My skin seared with heat from where he touched me, making my body buzz. My blood only ran hotter when he moved to sit closer to me on the bed. The desire to touch him rolled through my limbs.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked quietly, and my throat burned from the effort. I was so lost in my soreness and lack of sleep that it was hard to speak.

"A few hours. The nurses gave you some saline fluid to hydrate you." His eyes turned gentle, pjnched with concern. "I was so worried about you."

I looked at the various contraptions that were hooked into different parts of my body. In addition to the IV drip hanging above, there was a pulse oximeter that measured my blood oxygen level and a monitor that kept track of my heart rate. My chest rose with panic when I saw the second monitor next to the bed, where the wire that was connected to my hand caused it to beep. It was monitoring the baby's heart rate.

I moved my hand down to my stomach under the sheet, staring at the small bump that had grown slightly since a few weeks ago. I didn't know if the baby's heart was still beating, and the thought terrified me. It tore at my insides just thinking about it.

I had some difficult choices to make about this pregnancy, ones I didn't want to make. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was keeping it. I wanted to tell Toby, but now didn't seem like the right time, not when I had just been admitted to the hospital from A's Dollhouse. But I knew I couldn't do this without him. I was so scared of telling him, but most importantly of being in this alone. Making tough decisions had always been the hard part, but once I'd made up my mind, I stuck to it–with the confidence that I'd made the right choice. Making the decision to keep this baby–our baby–hadn't been easy, but one I'd been comfortable with keeping.

I quickly looked away from the monitor, growing more anxious by the minute.

"What happened?" I asked. I couldn't remember everything exactly, and my memories only blurred in a confusing haze when I tried to recall.

Toby gently stroked my wrist, caressing the swollen area. "They ran some blood tests, examined you for bruises and infected wounds, and then checked your heart rate."

"Spencer Hastings?" A tall, white-haired man in a white coat walked around to the foot of my bed. "My name is Dr. Grey. How do you feel?"

"Tired," I said in a weak voice.

He flipped over a page on his clipboard. "Your vitals look good, no sign of any cuts or bruises. Does anything hurt?"

"Not really," I answered.

The doctor's fingers probed lightly along my skull. "Tender?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No."

"Well, everything seems normal. You should be released sometime tomorrow. Will your boyfriend be staying?"

I glanced at Toby, blushing.

"Yes," Toby replied.

"Wonderful," Dr. Grey said. "But we'll have to take you to the exam room for some procedure testing."

They wheeled me away then into the examination room in the OBGYN department to run an ultrasound on my uterus. Thankfully, Toby left the room before the nurses could explain that it was for the baby–the doctor found out I was pregnant after my blood test showed high levels of HCG in my bloodstream and wanted to make sure the baby was alright. I let out a breath of relief after Dr. Grey told me the baby was fine. No tears, no toxic chemicals ingested. Not even internal bleeding.

When I returned, a nurse helped me back into bed and left a kidney dish on the bedside table for me in case I had the urge to vomit from morning sickness.

I glanced nervously at the empty doorway, then leaned back against the bed. The only bright spot in all this was knowing that Toby was just down the hall.

I felt an uneasy chill at the idea that Andrew Campbell had done this to my friends and I–roaming through Pennsylvania freely. He was the president of every club around school and star athlete of the baseball team, and he was just as ambitious as I was. I kept wondering how someone I'd once considered to be a friend and was ranked with on the debate team all throughout high school could torment me this whole time. I felt so stupid for not seeing the signs that Andrew was dangerous.

But there was something else that scared me more–something far more unsettling. For the three weeks I'd been locked away in the Dollhouse, Charles had threatened my unborn baby. I couldn't just forget that.

Just then, three familiar figures in matching hospital gowns appeared at the door. When they saw I was awake, Aria, Hanna, and Emily walked in, assembling on the navy blue fabric chairs by my bed.

"You're awake," Emily said.

Hanna sat down on the edge of my bed. "We tried to see you earlier, but the nurses said you were asleep."

I rested my hands on my stomach, hoping nobody noticed the defined baby bump. "I was with Toby."

Emily's eyes widened. "Did he catch the person that did this?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Where is Mona?" Aria murmured after a moment.

"She's down the hall," Hanna answered. "And that other girl is down there too, Sara Harvey."

"What about Andrew?" Emily wondered.

Aria's eyes cut to Emily's. "What about him?"

Hanna took a breath. "I heard them talking in my ambulance about how they found plans and journals in Andrew's house, at the farm where he left the van."

"Andrew Campbell and Charles DiLaurentis are the same person," Emily said slowly. "That's what we're saying, right?"

"We're not just saying it," Aria said, "it's reality." I heard an edge to her voice.

My stomach began to churn. Ever since I'd arrived at the hospital, deep down I'd had this awful feeling that Andrew finding us hadn't been an accident. But I kept ignoring it, telling myself it was just in my head.

"Reality's been through a lot," I said, "and so have we."

"You guys, it makes perfect sense," Aria said forcefully, her eyes wide and intense as she gazed into our own. "Andrew's always just been there on the edge of things. Always there, helping. Makes me sick just thinking about it."

I stared at her, my throat constricting. I pressed my hand more firmly, but gently against my bump. The seed growing inside of me may have been safe now, but who was to say what Andrew would do to it later on?

"So when do we tell the police about Charles?" Emily asked.

"We don't," I said simply.

Hanna frowned. "We don't?"

"The cops will know if it's true."

Aria's mouth was taut. "It is true, Spencer."

I glanced at her. "They'll know Andrew is Charles when they find him."

Before either of my friends could respond, the door opening interrupted us and Toby stood in the doorway, holding in his hand a glass vase of the most beautiful bouquet of pink orchids I had ever seen. He glanced at Aria, Hanna, and Emily, then set down the flowers on the nightstand.

Emily looked at Toby, then at me. "We'll leave you two alone."

Hanna snapped off the light as she, Aria, and Emily turned to leave. When they left the room, I glanced at the orchids Toby had brought me. "Are those for me?"

He nodded sheepishly. "They were all that was left at the gift shop."

I beamed up at him. "They're beautiful."

Toby was immediately at my side again. He settled in close to me on the bed and pulled me against his chest. I sighed and snuggled into him, while he gently stroked my face and murmured softly into my ear. Our first kiss, when we'd played Scrabble, the first time we'd made love, the day I'd tutored him in French III, when we said 'I love you' for the very first time. As I listened, I realized with happiness that he was doing it to comfort me.

"What were you saying before in the ambulance?" I asked at one point.

" _Tu es mon vrai amour,_ " Toby said. I could hear the French accent in his voice as he uttered the familiar language, one that we both shared. "I called you my true love–someone who makes me feel purely the way that you do."

I was silent for a moment, speechless. My eyes moved over his face, trying to decipher whether he truly meant it. Finally, he gazed deep into my eyes.

"I love you," Toby professed.

My heart stuttered, then picked up. It was amazing after all this time how those three little words could still have such an affect on me, the only person whose heart and soul had the ability to touch mine.

I met his gaze. "I love you, too."

Toby stared back at me in awe, as if he couldn't believe I was really here. His perfect full lips parted, curving. I couldn't stop looking at them. Then he leaned in and those lips were moving firmly against mine.

When Toby pulled away, he pressed the underside of his palm to my cheek and I leaned into his touch, sighing softly. I took his hand, kissing it.

But then Toby traced the side of my face. "Sleep, Spencer," he murmured, his breath hot against my cheek. "You're safe now."

I shook my head. "No, I don't want to sleep. You'll be gone when I wake up."

"I'll still be here when you wake up, I promise." He kissed my forehead.

I nestled my head back into his chest, and he tightened his arms around me as I drifted off to sleep. I was more warm and comfortable in Toby's arms than I'd ever felt.

Toby

I was still in Spencer's hospital room when the sun rose behind the clouds from the window outside. I'd been sitting in the chair by her bed for hours while I watched her sleep, where she was dreaming soundly in the small bed. Spencer was curled onto her side with the blankets covered around her shoulders loosely. She was safe now, the way it should be.

As I watched, Spencer shivered in her sleep. It occurred to me that she was probably cold. Silently, I went to her and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

Spencer's lips trembled and then parted. "Okay, mom," she muttered.

The corners of my lips twitched in amusement. Spencer talked in her sleep.

I noted the freckle on her cheek and shivered, staring longingly at her face. I wanted very much to hold Spencer and kiss her lips, but knew better than to wake her. Though right now–with her dark hair spread out across the pillow, her features smoothed out and relaxed, her soft lips parted slightly–she looked so beautiful.

I thought of the first day she came to tutor me, and my disgust towards her for shunning me along with the rest of the town who had accused me of murdering Alison DiLaurentis. But when I saw her face, I couldn't help but find her intriguing. She had chocolate-brown doe eyes set in a pale, petite face, with shapely pink lips and long chestnut brown hair that framed her lovely features. Her narrow chin jutted out stubbornly with her thin cheekbones whenever she looked thoughtful, brimming over with mysterious calculations; the light and dark contrast of her hair and skin made her look even prettier. And then there were her eyes, unusually deep for brown. Spencer was unlike any girl I'd ever met.

A furrow puckered in between Spencer's eyebrows then, startling me out of my thoughts. She sat up gradually and her lips pulled up into a small, hazy smile. "Toby," she said softly and slowly, as if she was still dreaming.

I immediately moved next to her on the bed, rubbing her back. "You look just as amazing as you do when waking up."

Spencer frowned, touching the collar of my fresh police uniform. "You left."

"I had to, but you were already deeply asleep. I promise."

Her lips stuck out in an attractive pout. I was filled with the desire to trace my fingers along those lips, wanting to touch her badly. I'd rather die right now than be separated one inch from her. I just wanted Spencer all to myself.

"I missed you," I added, gleaming at her.

She sighed. "You're impossible."

Then I pulled her into my arms, resting my head against her shoulder. Spencer's fingers touched the back of my neck as she pressed her cheek to mine. With our arms wrapped around each other, we sat there for a while, holding the other closely. I buried my face into her neck, relishing the contact. I never wanted to let her go.

Eventually, we unwillingly pulled out of the embrace. Spencer leaned back against the pillow, resting her hand on my shoulder.

"We got the son-of-a-bitch," I told her. "Andrew." My voice was rough with rage.

"You caught him?" Spencer asked in a weak and tired voice.

I nodded. "We tracked him all over Tyler Park, finally flushed him out."

She sat up straighter. "Are you sure he's the one?"

"We've been chasing him since we found the prison van at his uncle's farm." I furrowed my brow. "They traced all electronic gear to him. They found a journal about how he hated Mona and how he thought Alison and the rest of you represented the 'Feminization of society.' It was a regular manifesto."

"Has he confessed?" Spencer's brown eyes were uncertain as she searched my face.

"Not yet. If he's smart, he will." I softened as I remembered what Spencer had to go through with Mona's trial, and reached out to caress her arm. "This town doesn't need another trial."

"No, it doesn't." She looked away, thinking for a minute, but I saw the pain in them.

We were both silent for a moment. I stared at her, noting the tired look on her face. She had dark shadows under her eyes, as if she hadn't gotten much sleep from the night before. My first priority was keeping Spencer happy and safe. I didn't want to leave her, but I knew I had to if she were to get enough sleep. A heavy feeling of anxiety settled deep within my chest while I thought of being separated from Spencer once again.

"I'll let you get back to sleep," I said quietly.

"I was asleep," Spencer replied. "Actual, real sleep." She paused. "I haven't had that in a long time."

And then she looked up at me with the most trustful expression, and I crumbled. I gave her a small smile in response.

My lips turned down, gazing at her tenderly. "We never gave up." I stared into the depths of her eyes, trying to convey to her that _I'd_ never given up on _her._

In that next instant, Spencer sat back up in bed to press her lips softly against mine. I cupped my hands around her face and kissed her back gently, trying to prolong the moment.

I kissed Spencer a few more times on the lips before melting into her, pressing my cheek against her shoulder, relieved to have her back in my arms again. She wrapped her arms around my back, leaning into me. I felt Spencer parting her lips against my neck as she let out a sigh of pure relief, and she rocked us back and forth.

I dug my fingers into her hair and back, holding her desperately to me. In another part of my head, I was thinking in anguish at the range of tortures Andrew had introduced Spencer to. He would suffer for this. I wanted to hurt him so badly that my entire body was buzzing with burning hatred.

I lifted up my head from Spencer's shoulder and frowned, seething. I wanted to tear Andrew apart, limb from limb, to break the bones from his body. Except the girl in my arms–the only person in this world who meant anything to me–was clinging to me, still so utterly trusting and in love with me. But the strong instinct to protect Spencer overpowered everything else, to shield her from this monster who had caused her so much pain.

Then I nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her sweet floral scent, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment, if only for a little while.

Suddenly, I felt Spencer's shoulders shake and she clung onto me tighter, burying her head into my chest. I frowned, wondering what was bothering her.

I grabbed her shoulders gently, looking into her tear-stained face. "Spencer? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer murmured, sobbing again. "I just…" She met my eyes and then started crying even harder. "I missed you so much, and I was scared without you there with me."

I touched my hands to her face, using my thumbs to wipe away the fresh tears. "Spence, everything's okay," I whispered. "I'm here now."

I pulled Spencer against my chest and squeezed her shoulders. My hand rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. Through her hospital gown, I could feel the thumping of her heart, but she began to shiver.

Spencer pressed her face into my chest by my heart, her tears soaking my shirt as she started sobbing even more.

I thought for a moment, and then stood, walking over to the small linen closet nearby the door that led out into the hallway. I opened it and found a pile of folded blankets on one of the shelves. I took the one that looked to be the thickest and brought it back over to the bed.

Spencer wiped her eyes with her fingers. "Toby, what are you doing?"

Instead of answering, I folded the blanket over her and enveloped her in my arms, leaning back against the mattress. I held Spencer in my arms, waiting for her to warm up.

She nestled into my warm embrace. My eyes lingered on her face, watching as her eyelids gradually closed, heavy with sleep.

Once I was sure she was deeply asleep, I touched a hand to her hair while my arm pressed tighter around her body, holding her closer to me. After a few minutes, Spencer began to relax, and her breathing evened out and deepened. I smiled knowing she was sleeping more comfortably now that I was here.

I may have been Spencer's safe place to land, but she was also mine. It was enough to make me shiver with happiness.

Spencer

Later that morning, I stood in my bedroom after my mom had brought me home from the hospital, pulling out the small bag of prescription medication from my things that the doctor had given me to help me sleep and calm my anxiety, while my mother, Veronica, looked through the window that faced Alison's old room.

The anxiolytic sleeping aids that I'd swallowed earlier that morning had helped, and as the anxiety eased, I'd drifted into a deep, calming sleep after what felt like ages. And since Dr. Grey had diagnosed me as pregnant, I could only take prenatal vitamins and some herbal supplements, as the regular pain medication could harm the baby. When I'd woken, I was still cradled against Toby's chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. And I'd floated through an endless space of clouds and sunlight, all the pain and worry gone. I had happily nuzzled into his chest, content to stay there for as long as possible.

I took out each marked bottle of pills, and then frowned. The anti-anxiety medication was missing. I started frantically rifling through my leather duffel bag, filled with the clothes I'd worn at the hospital.

"I spoke to my friend at the prosecutor's office." My mom pushed aside the thick, creamy curtains from my bedroom window, letting the sunlight seep in. "There's little chance of Mona being charged for faking her death and causing Alison's arrest. 'They'd just as soon blame everything on the Campbell boy. Nice and tidy.'"

Her words barely registered. I tossed and flipped over articles of clothing and toiletries, thinking I must have misplaced the medication bottle somewhere.

"Something's wrong," I said, my chest tightening anxiously. "They made a mistake at the hospital. They left out one of my prescriptions." I turned to my mother. "They're supposed to give me an anti-anxiety medication to help me sleep."

"I asked them not to," she replied calmly.

I frowned at her in confusion, a horrible suspicion growing in my head. "You asked them not to?"

"Spencer, you know you've had some issues."

Six months ago, I'd relapsed on Adderall pills, 'study drugs' I'd become addicted to the summer Ali went missing, to help me prove that Aria's ex-boyfriend, Ezra Fitz–and our former high school AP English teacher–was A, only to find out that he had actually been writing a book to exploit Alison. But now I was clean, and hadn't felt the urge to take pills again since.

Rage filled my body. "Mom, they–they gave me something at the hospital and it was the first night in forever that I got what a normal person would call sleep."

"Honey, you're home now. You're not in the hospital." My mom tried reaching for me, but I yanked my arm away.

"I can't believe that you did this," I said angrily. How could she do this to me? Did she really think so low of me that I would get high on anxiety pills? My mother had _taken away_ my Micrainin medication. What was next, locking me in my bedroom? Cutting off my oxygen?

"It wasn't an easy decision," she said.

"Okay, that makes me feel a lot better," I said sarcastically.

"I will help you any way I can, but I'm not gonna take the chance of you having another problem."

I felt the blood boil under my skin. Knowing that my own mother didn't trust me with prescription pills set something off inside me.

I stared at her. "Mom, I need that prescription."

"No, you want it," my mother argued. "There's a difference.

"That's semantics," I retorted.

"That's the rule. I'm sorry if that sounds unfair, but I have to be firm on this and so do you."

A few seconds of edgy silence passed. So that was how she felt about me. It was as if keeping me on my meds might make things worse in light of my former addiction issues.

I set my jaw, fuming. "Wow. I really am back home."

Furious, I turned to my bed and crossed my arms tightly across my chest, staring dejectedly at the trove of pill bottles that were now scattered across my comforter. I'd taken the anti-anxiety medication last night to help me sleep, and now they were gone. It was like a slap in the face.

I looked down at the floor, letting out a shaky breath. My lips parted as a few stray tears escaped my eyes. I didn't want to think about the dreaded bedtime, afraid the dark shadows of my memories would come back to haunt me again. Fear wrapped around me like thorns, piercing me in a wave of agony. I couldn't sleep without the anxiety pills.

I remained terrified to go to sleep that night, unsure of what I would see once I closed my eyes. My mother continued to watch me anxiously, and it irritated me more.

I dressed slowly in Toby's long-sleeved anchor grey shirt and low-waisted black sweatpants. Before settling into bed, I slipped into my bathroom to grab two prenatal vitamins and some herbal supplements. They did help with the pain, but it was only a temporary solution to the anxiety and fear that poisoned my mind. That night, the shadows returned, as usual.

I lay awake on my side, missing Toby more every hour, with the sheets twisted around my legs from under the thick covers. I was scared, worried, anxious and was alone, missing Toby's angel-soft voice and the feeling of his loving, gentle caress against my skin. My mind refused to shut out the noise, unnerving me as I tossed and turned relentlessly on the bed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to lose consciousness.

The triggers that used to lull me to sleep changed in the darkness of my bedroom. Instead, I became hyperaware that I was in the same room that Charles had tormented me in. Electricity flowed through me, wiring me awake nearly all night. And the high-pitched alarms from the demented Dollhouse echoing loudly in my ears refused to fade away, prying my eyes wide open.

Terror clenched at me as I tried to slow my erratic heartbeat. I sighed and rolled onto my back, hoping sleep would eventually come. I took a painful swallow, closing my eyes, but the moment I did, images of being isolated in that room from the Dollhouse consumed my thoughts.

Darkness was all I could see when the vision pulled under. In the memory, my eyes were squeezed shut as the piercing screams of the siren radiated through my skull. Long, horrible rings punctuated my ears, and the blood rushed to my head. I immediately covered my hands over my ears.

I was trapped inside a cold, dimly-lit room that I didn't recognize. The windowless walls were painted a cool green, and the only furniture was the metal chair I was strapped to. On the table in front of me, my right hand was cuffed by an electric shocking restraint that was hooked to a switchboard where red, round buttons were positioned underneath each photo of Aria, Hanna, and Emily. I had to choose which one of my friends could have food and water for the day, or else A would blare the alarm until I thought my ears would bleed. It was one of the games he wanted to play with us.

Then, suddenly, the alarm stopped as a warm yellow light in the corner flashed, indicating the countdown. "Five…" a woman's voice from the loudspeaker echoed. "Four…three…two…one…"

I felt my throat close, gasping with panic, sickened. A heavy weight pressed down on my chest as the seconds ticked by. My breaths became labored and I squeezed my eyes shut again, allowing the tears to trickle down my cheeks.

Then finally, without looking, I quickly shot out my hand in front of me to one of the photos, pushing the button. A second later, a girl's bloodcurdling scream ripped out through the house–it was Aria. Suddenly, the loud roaring of a train engine screeched against train tracks, and my heart started to race.

My eyes snapped open, the back of my neck icing over with sweat. The screams turned into a howling in my ears. It was clear that sleeping in the dark wasn't an option.

I pushed back the covers and quickly rolled off my bed towards my bedroom door. Then, grabbing one of my short combat boots from nearby the closet French doors, I crawled onto my knees and pulled open the door a crack. I heard a creaking sound as I set down my boot in the space between the door and the wall so it wouldn't close. The soft light from the upstairs hallway streamed in through the door crack.

Panting, I scrambled back into bed, pressing my face into the pillow. I closed my eyes and waited for my beating heart to ease, but all I could hear were the high-pitched alarms in my head and my eyelids popped open again.

As the night wore on, my body felt achy and chilled. I pulled the covers up to my nose, shaking, and later added a pillow, too. I tried to fall sleep, but my mind refused to stop spinning. The baby's sonogram Charles had given me in the Dollhouse wouldn't stop appearing from behind my eyes. Or the memory my aching wrists as I struggled against the cuffs.

Eventually, I'd gotten up and pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contact list for Toby's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Spence? Are you okay?"

My lower lip quivered. "Can you come over?"

Toby didn't hesitate. "I'll be right there."

Ten minutes later, Toby appeared in the doorway, looking perfect as usual in a pair of blue jeans and a navy-blue knit V-neck T-shirt that emphasized his muscular chest, his hair tousled from sleep. I looked at him longingly, wanting to seek comfort in the safety of his arms. Then I sprinted off the bed towards him and crashed into his arms.

Toby rubbed my back as I sobbed into his neck. "Shhh, I'm here."

I clung onto him, trying to press myself closer to him. Toby lifted me up against him and I wrapped my legs around his back. Slowly, he carried me over to the bed and set me down carefully.

Toby paused, staring into my face with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Depends on what you mean by okay."

"Oh, Spence…" He pressed a hand to my cheek, and I melted from his touch.

"I couldn't sleep," I explained, swallowing. "Will you spend the night with me?"

Toby's lips parted as his eyes locked onto mine. I thought I saw a flicker of desire residing there in the depths of his blue eyes. "Of course I will. Get in bed and I'll go change."

As I crawled underneath the comforter, I saw Toby stripping down to his grey Calvin Klein boxer briefs. My eyes moved over his defined chest and abs, perfectly sculpted like the body of a Greek God. I looked away and blushed, thinking about if he were naked in my bed. But before I could ponder any more on it, he settled in next to me and pulled me in close to his chest.

I snuggled into him, sighing softly. A few long minutes passed. Then Toby's lips were at my ear.

"Are you asleep yet?" he whispered.

"No."

His lips moved to my hair, nuzzling into it. I closed my eyes and sighed again.

"Toby?" I asked after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"Will you be here when I wake up?" I wanted to be sure that he wouldn't be gone when I woke in the morning.

"I will never leave you," Toby promised. "I love you, I will always love you. We'll get through this together, no matter what happens." His arms tightened around me. "You're the strongest person I know."

"I don't know about that," I disagreed.

He looked down into my face gently, his eyes warm. "You are. And this, us." He lifted my hand and pressed it to his face, and my breath caught in my throat. "This is stronger than any force."

"I love you," I replied.

"And I love you," Toby breathed.

Toby ran his fingers through my hair, and then he started to hum a melody softly in my ear, one I didn't recognize. It sounded like a lullaby. I buried my face into his warm chest as he wrapped his arms around me, listening to his heartbeat thudding. Toby was as comforting as a teddy bear. The exhaustion from the emotional stress of the day finally faded from my subconscious, the muscles in my face loosening with ease.

The sound of his beating heart soothed me to sleep within mere minutes as I drifted off in his loving and protective arms.


	4. Chapter 4

The Ties That Bind

Spencer

I felt absolutely wonderful the following morning, since Toby had spent the night with me. I had been too scared to sleep, but he rubbed my back and hummed me to sleep so I would stop crying. I was snuggled into Toby's bare chest when I woke, and his arms were wrapped around me. The alarm clock sitting on my bedside table read 8:00 A.M., and the sun outside was just starting to come up.

Toby slept with his cheek resting against my hair. I pressed my face deeper into his chest, breathing deeply. As I exhaled, the strong odor of my morning breath assaulted my nose. I'd been having morning sickness for months now, but it was still something I could never completely get used to. The scent of grease or the smell of freshly brewed coffee was enough to push me over the edge.

My head ached and my stomach churned. The bile in the back of my throat was threatening to rise. I sat up in bed slowly, trying to gain control of the fatal nausea.

Toby opened his gorgeous blue eyes and sat up. "Hey." He grabbed me gently by the waist and pulled me towards him. "How are you feeling?"

I hung back as a wave of nausea swept over me, nearly knocking me over. I had to cover my mouth to keep myself from throwing up right there.

Toby frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. My stomach was rolling now, twisting in my gut. I leaped out of bed quickly and ran straight for the bathroom, with my hand clamped tight over my mouth.

"Spencer?" Toby's voice was anxious.

But I felt so horrible that I couldn't answer. I crouched over the toilet as I heaved.

Toby was at my side immediately. "Spencer? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," I gasped. "Go back to bed. I don't want you to see me like this."

"I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed my neck while I continued to vomit, holding back my hair from my face until I could breathe again. When I was done, Toby helped me up gently so I could rinse my mouth. Then he carried me to the bed and set me down carefully.

"Spencer, are you sick?" He sat beside me on the bed and put a hand to my forehead. I closed my eyes at his touch.

"No," I said, shaking my head. The nausea had passed as quickly as it had come, just as it did every other morning, another one of the side effects of pregnancy.

Toby furrowed his brow in worry. "Then what is it?"

I pursed my lips. _Tell him_. A little voice in the back of my mind was nagging at me to tell him now. Guilt gripped at me, and I wondered if Toby could see it on my face.

My head spun. The day I took the pregnancy test, I'd been terrified. I was having a baby and I didn't know what to do. I had wanted to tell him for so long, but whenever I tried, something always managed to get in the way. Everything had been so insane lately that there had never been a right time. A couple of weeks after Toby and I slept together, when he'd come back from London, I'd missed my period, but I had been feeling panicky and stressed out way before then. Because right after we'd had sex, I realized that we hadn't used protection. I was three days late. Five tests later, I found out I was pregnant. Deciding to keep this baby was confusing and scary, but it was also wonderful and thrilling and gave me hope at the same time–emotions that would gush up inside me when I least expected it. I'd been feeling so afraid and alone without Toby for the last few months that nothing made sense anymore. The only thing I was sure of was how much I loved him.

If I held onto this secret any longer, I was sure that I would probably explode. And soon, it would be his secret, too. It would have to be. I had to tell him first before I told anyone else, and now would be as good a time as ever.

Finally, I looked into Toby's face, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the courage, knowing that once I told him our lives would be forever changed. Butterflies rocketed against my ribs as I thought of what to say.

Toby took my hand in his and squeezed, trying to comfort me. Before I could even form the words, my eyes welled with tears. He silently enveloped me into his arms and held me against him.

I buried my face into his neck and clung onto him, sobbing violently. Here in Toby's arms, I felt completely safe. When I started shaking, he kissed my ear and held me tighter.

Toby pulled away slightly to cup my face in his hands, his blue eyes boring into mine. "Spence, whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

It took a moment before I could speak. "I missed my period a few months ago, and I've been trying to find a way to tell you ever since. I know this wasn't something we'd planned, but it just…happened." I stopped talking and stared at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked at me, puzzled. "Spence...you're scaring me. Is everything okay?"

With a shaky breath I said, "Toby, I'm pregnant." I choked back a sob.

Toby sat motionless. He didn't speak for a long time. The tears I'd been holding back threatened to resurface.

After a while, he stared directly into my eyes. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "I took a test and it was positive."

"Maybe it was just a false alarm," Toby tried to assure me.

Anger rippled through me. "Toby, I took five tests just to make sure."

"Does anyone else know?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, just you. I didn't want anyone else to know yet until I talked to you first."

"What about your parents?"

I laughed without humor. "Can you imagine how my parents will react? They'll never look at me again."

When I saw the shock and bewilderment on Toby's face, a rush of tears streamed down my face.

"Hey…" I heard his soft, velvet voice trying to soothe me as he reached for me. "We'll get through this, I promise."

I wrenched my hands free of his. "Toby, I'm a senior. I'm having a hard enough time passing tests as it is."

"I know," Toby whispered softly. "But I think we should talk about what we're going to do."

The choking fear I'd felt those four months ago squeezed my chest. "Talk about what? How we're going to raise a baby alone?"

I was too young to have a baby now. Yes, Toby and I had talked about having one someday, but when I pictured a future with him, it was five years later when we were married and lived in our dream house, excelling at doing what we loved most in our political and law aspirations. I was pregnant. That meant the beautiful picture we had created of our life together was over. No freedom to escape A and Rosewood. Instead, I was stuck in a life I hadn't planned with no future. It was out of my control, and that scared me more than anything.

"And we might not even live in the same state when I graduate," I added.

"I know, but I could apply for a transfer to help with you and the baby," he offered.

Anxiety trembled in my stomach. "And what do you want me to do? Move into your loft?"

"You don't have to…" Toby looked down, pained. "Say it like that."

"Like what?" I demanded.

"Like living together would be such a horrible thing." I saw the anguish clear on his face. Guilt rolled through me, knowing that I was the one hurting him. I knew how important Toby's job was to him and he was willing to transfer his station from the force here in Rosewood just to support me and our baby.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," I said, trying not to look at him. I could already feel the tears dotting at my eyes, threatening to spill. "It's just in this context it would."

Then he raised his eyes. "You're talking about this like it would…ruin our lives. I mean, isn't this what we were planning for eventually?"

"I–I know," I stuttered. "I really…" I swallowed back a sob that had lodged in my throat and sniffled. "Everything is happening so fast, I don't know what to think. I haven't even made up my mind yet about college."

"Well, have you made up your mind about me?" Toby met my eyes, watering with tears, a mixture of hurt and sadness in his expression.

Shock and outrage flooded me. "Don't make this about something that it isn't."

Toby swallowed at my hurtful words, looking stung. Another wave of guilty feelings swept over me.

"What about your plans?" I continued. "I know if you were given the choice you'd go back to school, get your Bachelors degree. I can't ask you to give that up."

"I never wanted that. I only wanted you."

My cheeks burned. "I'm sorry, okay? I just…I'm scared." I dropped my face into my hands as the walls started to close in around me. My throat closed up in panic and spots formed in front of my eyes, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

I recognized this anxious feeling: I was having a panic attack. I'd had one only once before, after A had planted a vile of my blood in my bag while I was in London for a college interview. Just the mere thought of Toby having to move in with me to raise the baby alone was enough to terrify me. I hadn't even decided on which college I was going to yet.

 _Calm down_ , I tried telling myself. _You'll get through this_. I sucked in two deep, cleansing breaths and covered my hand over my mouth, trying to keep myself from crying. After a minute of breathing deeply, the spots began to disappear.

Toby pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose, his hand covering his eyes. With painful regret, I knew he was quietly crying. I yearned to comfort him, but I was at a loss to how. A throbbing ache smacked me in the gut, knowing that I was the cause of his pain. I had never meant to hurt him. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for not telling him about it sooner and that even if we had to take care of this baby all on our own, it would still be okay. But how could I when I wasn't even sure of it myself?

"This is really hard," I said, biting back biter tears. "It wasn't an easy decision."

I thought I saw Toby wipe away a tear from his cheek. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make it harder." His voice choked with emotion.

My heart softened. "It's just…I've been feeling so confused and scared lately, I don't know what to do."

He moved closer to me on the bed and stroked my cheeks, tracing my face with his fingers softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

 _You shouldn't be so sweet to me_ , I thought. _I made out with my older sister's roommate and tried to push you away. I don't deserve you._

But when the tears cleared from my eyes, Toby kissed away the trail of wetness from my cheeks. I stared at him in astonishment. How could Toby have reacted in any way other than with compassion and understanding? He was the sweetest, most thoughtful and caring person I knew. He was the kind of guy who would go out of his way to make me feel safe and loved, and put me first before anything else.

My eyes brimmed over with tears. "I love you."

Toby smiled sweetly. "I love you, too. I'll always love you."

"I'm keeping the baby."

His blue eyes turned very soft and gentle, and I realized tears had welled in them. A bubble of happiness exploded inside me. Wordlessly, he pulled me in and pressed his lips firmly, yet tenderly to mine. I automatically wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself closer to him.

When the kiss broke, I put my hand gently on my stomach of the small, but noticeable bump as more tears prickled my eyes.

It was funny how abruptly your life could change in just one second. Once I saw that first little line of pink, everything had changed. When I fell in love with Toby, he was all I ever wanted. Now there were two people who I loved with my whole heart–neither one more or less than the other.

I never expected any of this to happen. Toby and I definitely were not ready to be parents. At first, I didn't want to be pregnant while on the verge of graduating from high school. It horrified me to imagine raising a child with absolutely no idea of how I would care for one alone, even with Toby's love and support. I'd always dreamed of having children with Toby someday when we were married four or five years from now, but not like this. I didn't have any experience with babies or being a mother, but from the first touch of that subtle bulge I knew I couldn't get rid of it. How could I when I'd be killing the one I loved? I never had a choice really. I couldn't imagine my life without her.

With every fiber of my being, I loved this baby growing inside of me. Toby's child, our baby.

I didn't realize until weeks after I'd been experiencing symptoms of my pregnancy, how much I wanted her. I was so caught up in my own issues–my parents' divorce, Alison's drama, A–that I didn't see deep in my heart that I wanted this baby, when it was already coming. And then suddenly, she was all I could think about. Having her was no longer a choice, but a powerful need.

For just a moment, I imagined what she would look like and a vision flitted across my mind. It was of a beautiful little baby–Toby's blue eyes on a miniature me and my long, dark brown hair. My body warmed at the thought, my heart fluttering with overwhelming joy.

And then I saw tears streaking down Toby's cheeks again.

He rested his hand over mine on my stomach and smiled happily, mirroring my own. "I know we're too young to have this baby, but I'll be here for you. And I'll love our baby as much as I love you."

Toby kissed me again and then leaned over to kiss the small baby bump. He did this many times before pulling me up onto my knees to press his face tenderly against my chest as he slid his arms around me. I laid my cheek against the top of his head and closed my eyes, breathing in his scent.

We stayed like that for a long time. Unable to help myself, my mind drifted off to a fantasy world where Toby and I would run away together far from Rosewood, somewhere remote at a beach. We'd lie in the sand together, getting lost in each other. I didn't care how long we could stay there. Just being trapped alone with Toby in a hotel room was enough to feel like heaven. We'd stay up all night, talking and kissing, making love, never leaving each other's sides.

I felt Toby's body hum in content against mine as he held me. And despite all the fear and uncertainty, I was fleetingly happy.

Toby slowly untangled himself from my arms and moved toward the rocking chair by the window. It was the rocking chair he had built for me to win me back after I'd broken up with him so I could protect him from A. it was handmade with dark cherry wood, contrasted beautifully with light oak and then sanded and shined to perfection. Spindles ran through a cane back, where the arm rails curled and curved, supported by stiles and a wooden seat. And a steam-bent curved at the front with back saber legs. After Toby and I got back together, he gave it back to me over the summer, where I had happily placed it in the corner of my bedroom.

Toby sat down in the chair and stretched out his hand for me. "Come here," he said in his velvet-soft voice.

I took his hand, and he pulled me into his lap easily, wrapping his arms protectively around me. I rested my head against his chest and sighed.

"Mmmm," Toby murmured, as I curled myself into a ball against his body.

"Don't leave again." I started playing with the collar of his shirt.

"I won't," he promised. Toby brushed his lips along my temple and forehead, and I closed my eyes, feeling myself relax in his embrace.

My heart thudded when his hand moved to rub my stomach. And it was in that moment I knew that Toby loved our little one as much as I did.

He rocked us slowly back and forth as we watched the sunrise slowly come up. I could hear the sound of our heartbeats, beating as one. It felt so comfortable to sit here like this in his arms without having to say anything at all. That's what it was like between us; natural and easy, like breathing. My heart suddenly warmed, and it felt as if it had swelled to twice the size.

Sure, it was going to be difficult to raise a baby together when we were both so young and I was still in high school, and on top of that with all the expenses that came with caring for a baby, I knew it was going to be okay. We had the love to give to a child and I knew with absolute certainty that Toby would be an amazing father. Maybe we were crazy, maybe it was hopeless to even think that this could work, but we were having this baby. Together.

Toby was my life, the one person who I couldn't live without. He was my savior, my once upon a time, my one true love. We belonged together and always would.

"Spencer, he says there's no such person as Charles DiLaurentis in our family."

I stood at the massive stainless-steel fridge in my family's spacious kitchen Monday morning, taking out a jug of orange juice as Alison pulled out two glasses from the cupboard. Her once long, golden blonde hair was now cropped to the top of her shoulders. It was one of the new things she was trying since being cleared of Mona's faked murder.

I hadn't spoken to Ali since she'd helped Toby, Ezra, and Caleb save me and the girls from A's twisted Dollhouse two days ago–my mother had driven me straight home from the hospital before I had a chance to see her. Now she was here in my house, to talk about her mysterious connection to Charles DiLaurentis. I didn't want to hear any more of the cops twisted theories about why my friends and I were suspects in Rosewood's top murders, or conjure up some more lies to keep A off our backs. I didn't want to deal with any of this happening.

I wandered over to the granite-topped island and faced her. "Ali, I'm going to say this as delicately as I can. Your father's a liar."

Alison raised her eyebrows. "That was the delicate way?"

"He didn't say, 'let me think,' or ask you where you heard the name or who asked about it, he just shut you down. Why?" I poured some orange juice into the two glasses Ali had set down on the table in front of us, eyeing her skeptically.

"I suppose you wanna go to the police about this," she said.

"No. Not really. I don't wanna walk in to any more police stations with any more theories." I brought the jug of orange juice back to the refrigerator. "Let the cops figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Ali asked. "That I am somehow related to someone named Charles DiLaurentis who really is Andrew Campbell?" She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "What do you think happened? That goblins snuck into the Campbell house and switched babies on them?"

"We both know that there are more conventional ways somebody can end up with more than two parents," I retorted. "That's how you and I got to share a brother."

Jason DiLaurentis was the older brother that Ali and I shared as a result of our parents' affair many years ago. Jason was the same age as Ian Thomas, Melissa's old boyfriend, and both played varsity lacrosse and soccer. I'd discovered this devastating revelation two years ago after I remembered what Ali had said to me in my room in ninth grade.

Right before Ali went missing, she'd come over to study for our English test. Though instead of prepping on essay questions, she was flipping through gossip magazines, talking about a guy in Germany who went on an online dating website and advertised himself as someone who could kill and eat his dates. Suddenly, we heard my parents arguing downstairs about catching my older sister, Melissa, making out with Jason in the car after giving her a ride home from Philadelphia. When Ali asked if they were splitting up, I explained my dad was just upset over the kiss. Intrigued, Alison had cracked the door open to listen, despite all of my protests. But when I insisted that Melissa wasn't even interested in Jason, she said that their relationship would be frowned upon by the Gods. I'd been so spooked by the memory that I decided I needed to talk to Jason about it myself. By the time Truth Up Day at school approached, I confronted Jason in the courtyard and asked him if my dad was his father, too. He answered with the three words that had haunted my entire existence since I found out: ' _Who told you?_ ' Alison always said secrets were what kept us close, but I hadn't really heard hers until that night.

Returning back to reality, I turned back to Ali. She stared at me for a few long seconds before steeling herself towards the end of the kitchen island. Her mouth pressed into a tight line and she frowned, seeming to be lost in thought.

I glanced toward the window where Ali was now staring at blankly, wanting to say something to make her feel better. A ripple of remorse swept through me as I thought of everything Alison went through to save us. I wanted to say how sorry I was for believing she had anything to do with Mona's 'death' and for accusing her of being A, and that none of this was her fault. But I knew saying that wouldn't make up for what the others and I had done.

"Thank you," I finally said.

When Ali met my eyes again, her face was chagrined, but it bore the tiniest glimmer of a smile.

"For getting us out of that place," I continued. I pushed the glass of orange juice towards her.

"You'd have done the same for me."

I locked my eyes onto hers, pondering her words. When Aria, Hanna, Emily and I went to New York to save Ali from A and bring her home, we all had to cover for the lies that she'd conjured up to protect Aria, telling the police that she had been kidnapped. Because before we'd returned to Rosewood, Alison's old friend, Shana Fring, had turned on Alison with a gun after Jenna told her about how Ali hurt the people in Rosewood, including Jenna. Aria had snuck up behind Shana and knocked her down into the orchestra pit of the theatre, falling to her death. No one could ever know what Aria had done to save Ali or she would have gotten arrested, so we had no choice but to go along with Ali's lie.

Keeping secrets were what tore our families apart, but were some better off left buried? In a town like Rosewood, some people were more like family than others.

Toby

Monday morning, Lorenzo and I made our way towards the police station, police bags in hand. After showering and changing clothes, I'd hurried out the door to work–I was running later than usual, after spending late nights with Spencer to help her fall asleep.

Spencer had been having nightmares for the past two nights I'd stayed with her, and she only stopped screaming when I shook her awake. I had to hold her securely in my arms to lull her back to sleep; it seemed to be the only cure to her insomnia. I would stay awake with her until I knew she'd drifted off, which was hours, to make sure she was okay.

We were walking across the parking lot when I heard a buzzing sound coming from Lorenzo's pocket.

Lorenzo pulled his phone out of his holster and glanced at the screen. "Hey, congratulate me. I'm a renter."

During the horrible three weeks that Spencer went missing, Lorenzo Calderon had been transferred in from his department of Pittsburg to make everyone in Rosewood forget that the police force had wrongfully accused four innocent teenage girls of murder. The move caused Lorenzo to stay with sweet old Mrs. Grandville in her old-fashioned, avant-garde house until he could rent an apartment in town.

I removed my black aviator sunglasses. "Ah. You got that apartment?"

"No more sleeping on Mrs. Grandville's couch," he said. "Nice, civic-minded lady, but those Hummel figurines kept staring at me."

I laughed, but my face quickly faltered when I spotted Alison walking towards me in the parking lot, carrying a light blue tote on her arm. "Toby?"

I tensed as she neared, her blond hair whipping slightly in the light breeze, her ankles steady in three-inch platform heels, looking like a picture-perfect model from a J. Crew catalogue. I didn't want to talk or see Ali again. She'd endangered Spencer, and had once been Rosewood's elite It Girl who made it her life's mission to ruin people's lives in order to give herself more power. People had been bowing down to Ali since ninth grade.

Alison approached Lorenzo and I, and stopped. "I saw you, I just wanted to check in. We haven't spoken since the other night."

"Been busy," I replied frostily.

Lorenzo shifted uncomfortably before turning to Alison. "Hello."

Ali crossed her arms over her chest nervously. "Hi."

"Uh, Alison, this is my new partner, Lorenzo Calderon," I introduced, gesturing casually with my hand. "Lorenzo this is Alison DiLaurentis."

Lorenzo extended his hand to her. "Pleasure."

Alison shook his hand, but he lingered his fingers on hers longer than necessary. I eyed her suspiciously.

"So are you new in town?" she asked after a moment, still looking at him.

"New-ish," Lorenzo said.

"Lorenzo is part of Rosewood PD's fresh prospective," I teased.

The corners of Lorenzo's lips pulled up into an easy smile as he gazed at Alison. "That's me."

Alison plastered a smile on her face, then switched her eyes back onto mine. "I spoke to Spencer this morning."

I nodded. "Good."

"Yeah, she seems okay. You know, physically."

"They went through a lot." I narrowed my eyes at her accusingly.

"We all did," Ali added. Her eyes locked onto mine, holding my gaze. We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us willing to surrender. Lorenzo glanced between Ali and I, noticing the tension between us.

After a beat, I asked, "How you doin'?"

"I'm glad it's over," she answered.

I flashed a dark look at her. "Me, too."

Alison turned back to Lorenzo. "It was nice to meet you, Lorenzo."

His voice was friendly. "It was great meeting you."

"See you later," she said, looking at me.

Ali left without another word; her walk was as fluid as a runway model. I watched with steeled eyes as she walked away.

As soon as Ali was out of hearing range, Lorenzo said, "So that's the famous Alison DiLaurentis."

"That's her," I said, clenching my jaw. Not wanting to talk about it anymore, I continued back toward the station.

The police station smelled like coffee and freshly polished linoleum floors when Lorenzo and I walked through the front entrance. Cops fluttered around us, taking phone calls, filling out forms, and rolling around on castor-wheel chairs at their desks. The visitor benches were filled with addicts and burglars, waiting to be locked away in the jail cells.

Agent Cruz pulled Lorenzo and I into the briefing room where she and the FBI, along with detective Maple and Lieutenant Tanner, were gathered around to discuss the evidence against Andrew. The circumstantial evidence against him was strong, so much that it was difficult to sort through all of it. The van we found, the electronics at the farm, the paper trail. Andrew's motives for wanting to kidnap and torture the girls was tracked to a timeline that went back years. The only thing we didn't have was confirmation of those motives and discrepancies, or a testimony that someone saw Andrew Campbell at the scene of the crime.

After Cruz described the events of Andrew's arrest, she went on to review the details of the victims. Three weeks prior to his arrest, Andrew Campbell was tracking Aria Montgomery with a satellite GPS from his computer. He became close with Aria when he tutored her in history for Rosewood High's final tests before graduation, and eventually they began to date. Andrew was in the Montgomery house, pretending to help her, Spencer, Emily, and Hanna so he could watch them. Then while Mike Montgomery was staying with Ezra Fitz in his cabin for the weekend, a hooded assailant attacked Mike. Ezra Fitz and Caleb Rivers snapped a picture of him tied to a pole with duct tape over his mouth for evidence before reporting it to the police. Andrew's journals described how much he hated Mona, Alison, and the other girls. In response, Andrew kidnapped and tortured Spencer, Aria, Hanna, Emily, and Mona.

At least, according to the evidence in his case file. I had to remind myself that a case file was not a conviction. It was just the police department's version of what happened, only one side of the story. Every criminal in this place had different motives, but they were all the same: evading the law in any means possible and were on the run. It never changed.

A wave of doubt trembled through me suddenly as I glanced at Spencer's picture from the crime map. My mind immediately went to her. When I'd caught Andrew, all I could think about was Spencer in that place and what he did to her. But it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't really know what happened. I saw it with my own eyes when I was there, but there was still so much I didn't know.

If Andrew really tortured Spencer and her friends, then why were we still here, trying to catch the same person who had been stalking four teenage girls for the past three years? During that time, I'd gotten to know A; he wasn't someone who could easily get caught. I could feel deep within my gut that something wasn't right.

Andrew led an ambitious and academic life, with a promising future of an Ivy League school. He was part of every club and sport at Rosewood High. Why would he throw all that away for four girls? As much as I wanted to tear Andrew apart for what he did to Spencer, I was starting to wonder about his involvement in all this. Why would he be holding onto a prison van that could incriminate him? Anybody else would have just left it on the side of the road somewhere, or drive it over the lake. And why would Andrew keep it so close to where he was hiding, much less some place where he could be linked to? It seemed too easy to find all that evidence.

If we had truly found A, it was only because he'd wanted us to find him. If we even tried to, A would have us killed. Did we unintentionally play some part in A's game, or was it all just a ruse until the real game began?

Spencer

The next day, I sat with Toby at our special spot, on the hill overlooking Rosewood and looking across the houses and buildings in the town below. The evening sunlight filtered in through the shade of trees. It was late afternoon, and Toby and I were relaxing on the red-and-black plaid picnic blanket that he had brought with him, complete with a wicker basket filled with cheese crackers and chunks of chocolate truffles, and a canteen of my favorite chamomile tea.

After twenty minutes of my mother's urging to go out with her to the stone-gated Country Club that my parents both belonged to, I finally was able to find a moment of peace. I knew once the police convicted Andrew of the charges against him for torturing my friends and I, there would be chaos. They would call it foul play, but I knew what was lying beneath the surface: it was the ordeal A had put us through in the Dollhouse before testing us, seeing if we had what it took to survive. I didn't want to go to the Club. I wanted to clear my head and be alone with Toby. When he'd surprised me with a tempting invitation of a picnic for lunch earlier, I'd found I didn't have much of an appetite for any type of food. My hunger had now morphed into a sickening nausea.

I risked a peek at Toby and noticed his muscular biceps bulging beneath the long sleeves of his faded red and grey sweater shirt. I resisted the urge to nibble him.

"I'm helpin' buildin' the case against Andrew," Toby said suddenly.

I looked numbly across the landscape. Purple streaked the sky, preparing for nightfall. "How's that going?"

"It's lookin' pretty strong."

I met his eyes and arched a slightly raised eyebrow at him questionably. "Pretty strong? What happened to 'we're gonna get the son-of-a-bitch?' The manifesto, the van, the electronics at the farm."

Toby pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes serious. "I've been thinking about all that." He paused. "Why hold onto the van? And why not ditch it? And why keep it _so close_ to where you're hiding? And why hide it some place you could be linked to?"

Disbelief rushed through my body. Did he actually think Andrew was innocent? I stared up into the sky for a minute before turning back to him, not feeling like dealing with it anymore. "Well, A is for arrogance."

Toby frowned, a perfect line forming in between his eyes. There was a helpless expression on his face. I stood and grabbed the basket and canteen, walking towards the truck parked just behind us. Toby immediately followed me.

As I put the basket away in the front seat, he said, "When I caught Andrew, I wanted to take him apart because of what he did to you."

His words stopped me in place, but I couldn't force myself to look at him. I didn't want to talk about what happened. I didn't want to think about it ever. After taking a couple breaths, I finally turned around to face him.

"All I could think about was you in that place and I realized that I don't know what happened," Toby continued. "I was there. I saw it. But…we never really talked about what happened. Why?" His face was deep and brooding.

I looked away from his intense gaze. It was only two days since Toby saved me from A. And two days since Andrew was arrested for allegedly scheming and planning all of it. My physical wounds had healed, but emotionally I was a mess. After spending three weeks in demented dollhouse isolation, I still couldn't bring myself to talk about what happened. Memories of that place came in pieces every night. When it finally drifted away, when I'd wake up, the fear took over. All the screams, isolating us from civilization until we thought we'd gone crazy.

And suddenly the hole that had left unhealed gashes inside my gut, burned through my chest, a reminder of the pain I'd worked so hard to keep locked up. Something tragic happened to me in that house and it was embedded into my brain forever. It was still there, lingering on the edges of my subconscious. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get it out. It was why I hadn't been able to talk about what happened since: I didn't know how to explain to Toby without sounding insane. Not that I wanted to. It was beyond awful to think that someone had been out there following my friends and I this entire time, waiting to force us to endure Milgram-style torture as an act of revenge.

In the distance, crows chirped and cawed. I couldn't even talk to Toby about this, the one person who could make me feel safe in this world, but I longed to tell him. If only I could find some way to help him understand how I was dealing with all this.

I tilted my head up to meet his eyes and bit my lip to keep from crying. "I don't wanna think about it because time I do, I'm back in that place."

Toby stepped closer to me. "In that place, were you…?"

I swallowed deeply, my throat feeling leaden. "I don't know. I was in this room that looked exactly like mine, only it wasn't. And, um, he was playing these games."

"What kind of games?" he asked gently.

Hot tears stung my eyes as I recalled those last few weeks. "Truth or dare. Who do you love more? Who deserves water and food today, you or somebody else? You decide or you lose your turn and someone else gets to choose. It just went on and on like that for days to the point where I'd lost track of time. After a while, I felt like…thin paper being cut and worn out."

Toby cupped my face in his hand and stared into my eyes. "I'm not going let that happen," he said softly. "I won't let anybody hurt you ever again, I will make sure of that. You're safe with me."

"I know, but I was afraid. I thought if I pretended it didn't happen, then the fear would go away." I started crying again. "But it didn't."

Toby entangled his arms around me and kissed my head as I broke out into a sob. I sniffled and laid my head against his chest. Toby's heart thumped in my ear, calming my anxiety. As he held me, I looked over at the horizon. Below, the rest of the town looked so small and empty. Like a place where monsters would roam at night, hunting for his next victim.

I wiped my eyes with Toby's shirt as he rubbed my back soothingly. Then he tilted my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look at him. "I love you."

The lump that had lodged itself into my throat deepened, and I swallowed. "I love you, too."

Toby bent his head and kissed me, wrapping an arm around my lower back and cupping the back of my neck with his free hand. I ignored the surge of pain that had cramped in my stomach, instead enjoying the feeling of his soft lips moving against mine.

I pressed my cheek against his chest. The way Toby held me made me feel so safe. I didn't ever want him to let me go.

Later that afternoon, I sat at Aria's desk in her bedroom, watching dizzily as she paced frantically back and forth, rambling about her interview with the FBI agent earlier about Andrew Campbell. When the cops told Aria they needed to talk to all of us about what we witnessed in the dollhouse, Aria told Agent Cruz, the FBI agent who was working on the case, that she saw Andrew unmasked so he couldn't get out of jail.

"And I screwed up on a global scale," Aria went on. "I mean, I just…I wanted to help. I just wanted it to be over with. I mean, there were whole parts of my brain that were trying to stop me from lying and the stupid parts won." Aria chewed on her thumbnail, something she did whenever she got nervous or anxious.

"Yeah, well, the stupid brain is small, but it's wily," I replied.

"I might as well have opened the cell door and let Andrew walk out."

"No, I don't think it's as bad as that," I disagreed.

"It's not good," Aria murmured, sitting down on the windowseat that was lined with pillows and school notebooks.

"No, it's not good." I stared down at the giant Oriental rug in the middle of the room. "But I understand the impulse."

"Anyway, thanks for coming over," Aria said.

I looked up. "Yeah, thank you for calling me."

An awkward pause settled in the room. I didn't know what else to do but sit there uncomfortably, listening to the birds chirping outside Aria's window. I waited for something, _anything_ , to help break the silence–a phone call, the fire alarm going off, even Ali showing up with news about Charles.

"I'm sorry," Aria finally said.

I frowned, feeling puzzled. "Sorry for what?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then A's sonogram note popped into my head, haunting me. _Your fetus will get a surprise._ Yesterday, after Toby left, I had logged onto my computer and typed in "teen pregnancy" and "expecting teen mothers." Even as I clicked through some of the links, it seemed strange to know that it now applied to me. It made me feel panicky and weird. Most of the sites about teen pregnancy was mostly filled with fifteen-year-olds panicking about whether to abort or keep, newlyweds trying unsuccessfully to conceive a baby, and new parents fretting about how much babies completely disrupted their lives, none of which helped me in my situation. But there was something on the TheBump website that looked promising, concerning first-time mothers, advice for dads, teen pregnancy, morning sickness, what foods to avoid. It had limitless information about what to do during pregnancy and after the baby was born. After spending an hour reading through the different sections, it made my pregnancy seem not so scary anymore. And I was filled with the comforting relief that I had Toby to help me through this.

"So Hanna called and she thinks that we should all go to school tomorrow," Aria said, interrupting my thoughts.

I pressed my hands to my face, feeling stressed. I couldn't even think about school right now, not with all the craziness going on. "Yeah, um, that's not a bad idea. Just–"

Just then, Ella, Aria's mother, called Aria from the stairs. "Aria! Can I borrow you for a second?"

"Yeah, sure." She turned to me. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

When Aria disappeared down the hallway, I looked across the room and spotted her medication sitting on the bedside table. Ella had placed an empty glass next to them, for the mornings when Aria would have to take her antibiotics and supplements. The light bulb in my head suddenly clicked on.

Tentatively, I walked over to the table and picked up one of the pill bottles labeled Micrainin. I turned over the medication bottle in my hand and glanced at the familiar name. It was just sitting there, the drug for anxiety relief.

It wouldn't really be stealing if I took just one. At least if I took a couple of Aria's anti-anxiety pills I could get some actual sleep for once.

But as I read the label instructions, my eyes stopped on one paragraph: _Not recommended for pregnant or nursing mothers_. My heart stopped. Instantly, everything made sense now. At the hospital, the doctor had given me natural anti-anxiety supplement pills to help me sleep, not drugs.

Panicked, I put the pill bottle down and quickly settled back onto Aria's desk stool, waiting for my palpitating heartbeat to slow. I felt overwhelmed with nerves, anxious about Andrew and A, and troubled by the fact that I'd nearly killed my unborn baby with Micrainin medication. When Aria returned, she had an unreadable look on her face.

I stood abruptly. "I should get going," I stuttered.

Aria frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just remembered I have to meet my mom for dinner."

"Okay." She said the words slowly, looking confused.

I hurried out the door and strode down the house's driveway. When I got to the end of the block, I tried to keep the tears from falling.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood at the door of Toby's loft, staring at the doormat blankly. The loft was the closest thing I had to home. It was 7:00 P.M., and with any luck, Toby would be back from work by now. I stood there for a while, contemplating whether I should knock or head back home to the nightmarish hellhole where I couldn't sleep. Finally, I took a deep breath and tapped my fist against the hard wood.

Seconds later, Toby opened the door, standing there in his dark navy-blue police uniform.

"Spencer?" He frowned with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't know where else to go," I answered, my chin wobbling.

His eyes widened in panic. "Did something happen to the baby?"

"The baby is fine," I murmured, but I couldn't help the gooey feeling that warmed my insides from seeing Toby's reaction to the baby's safety.

I could barely form the words. So much had happened, I couldn't make sense of it myself.

I rested my hand against the bulging bump in my stomach. "Can I stay here with you tonight?"

"Of course." His eyes were gentle and understanding. Toby pulled me into his arms, wrapping them tightly around me.

I pressed my face into his chest; the sound of his heart beating against my ear calmed my nerves. He cradled my head closer against his chest, brushing his lips over the crown of my hair.

I breathed him in. He smelled so good, like sandalwood and clean soap. I buried my fingers in his hair and brought his face to mine, tasting his sweet lips as I kissed him.

Toby's arms slid around my waist and I clung to him, knowing that he would hold me. We walked into the loft blindly in a tangle of arms and lips. His mouth trailed over my neck, heating my skin.

"Spencer," he whispered, nibbling my earlobe.

Hearing him say my name made my body throb. I nuzzled into his neck affectionately. _My Toby._

The thought of spending the night with Toby felt like a sheer, blissful dream. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to control myself around him, but I didn't care. I'd missed him so much; every ounce of my being craved for his touch.

I paused in his embrace, taking in the familiar loft. The gigantic bay window, Toby's writing desk, and the love sofa I'd helped him pick out when he'd first moved in here. Contrasting shades of navy, grey, white, and black decorated the floors and walls. The furniture was sleek and contemporary, with clean lines and artistic appeal. Black and white framed architectural photographs hung from the walls, and a small mahogany bookshelf stood pushed up against the wall in the study.

I'd almost forgotten how much I'd missed this place. Coming here in the mornings, and then lying around lazily with Toby on the weekends.

I looked up into Toby's eyes, and suddenly everything else disappeared. We stood there in silence for a few long seconds. I traced his face with my fingers, taking my time staring at him, at the bump in his chin, the light blue flecks in his sapphire eyes. He brushed his own fingers over my cheeks, my chin, and then finally my lips.

Sighing, I parted my lips under his fingertips. They tasted deliciously sweet beneath my tongue. We were alone. No more interruptions, no A. Just us. Nothing could stop us from being together tonight.

In that instant, I pinned him against the wall and locked my eyes onto his, wanting nothing more than to feel his touch. He held my gaze and flickers of electricity charged between us as the sexual tension built up, amazed that I could be _more_ deeply attracted to him than I already was. After another minute of unbearable yearning, I crushed my mouth to his forcefully. He quickly reciprocated, kissing me back desperately, full of pure love and desire. My body buzzed with a warm and wonderful sensation.

Slowly, our kiss intensified into something hungrier and more urgent. It was like I was starving without him.

Then he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine and breathing hard. "Do you want to come up to my room?" he whispered breathlessly.

My heart jumped and my cheeks flamed. I nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak.

Toby scooped me up into his arms and carried me upstairs to his bedroom. He set me gently on the bed and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him for a moment. I leaned into him, letting his steady, even breaths soothe me.

When I pressed my cheek against his shoulder, I caught sight of our reflection on the wall's mirror of our bodies molded into each other, and I shivered. He fit into me so perfectly, like a missing puzzle piece.

Toby pressed his nose into my hair and sighed, breathing in my scent. Then he cupped the back of my neck and turned my face toward his so that I was looking at him. But before he could kiss me again, I said, "I need to change first."

He nodded, still looking into my eyes. "Sure. Hurry back."

I climbed off the bed, moving over to the low oak-wooden dresser where I'd left some of my pajamas and sleepwear the last couple of times I had spent the night. I opened the top drawer. There were a few pieces of sheer lace and skimpy satin lingerie inside. Very seductive lingerie. I bit my lower lip and smiled, feeling the excitement bubble inside me.

I ended up choosing the sheer, fire engine-red lace babydoll slip with the matching tiny Cosabella lace thong and attached black garters.

I sneaked a peek over my shoulder at Toby on my way out to find that he was slowly unbuttoning the shirt of his police uniform; he hadn't even looked up at me. My lips parted slightly and I froze as I admired his toned stomach, his taut chest and sternum that had somehow hardened and become more muscular. I was suddenly overcome with the strong desire to bite him. Flushing, I turned away and slipped out, closing the bathroom door behind me.

The bathroom was small. It had a marble-tiled floor, a porcelain-oval foot bathtub against the far side of the wall along with a glass shower in the corner, and a mirror hung above a single countertop sink. I quickly undid the back buttons of my black-and-white striped cotton-knit sweater and pulled my jeans off down past my thighs until I was standing in just my underwear, and I took those off too. I slipped into my lace thong first, then pulled the slip over my head and attached all the straps. I put on the garters next and hooked it to the hem of my lingerie.

I found a brush to tangle through my twisted hair until it was smoothed out and the knots became smooth and silky. I brushed my teeth fiercely and then ran cold water over my face to calm my jittering nerves.

I figured I should also shave my legs, so I did that too. When I was done, I faced the mirror and took a deep breath. My face was now glowing and radiant, my hair in dark loose waves, and my lips pink and vibrant. The babydoll fit nicely on my chest, and the shortness of it showed off my long, slender legs.

I tried not to think of Toby, waiting for me in the next room, but came up unsuccessful. Just thinking of his body touching mine, of his lips on my skin made me feel hot all over.

I shouldn't be nervous. I'd been naked with Toby numerous times, in more ways that one. Yet, I couldn't seem to stop shaking.

Not able to hold it off any longer, I stepped out of the bathroom and looked around the room. The bedroom lights had been turned off and the door was locked shut. Unlike the bathroom, this room was big with dinky beige walls, and the far wall had a four-paneled window slightly concealed by frosted glass. Outside, the moon was silver and bright, glowing onto the carpet. In the middle of the room, a huge bed was pushed up against the wall with a deep blue comforter on top and soft billowy pillows, just like I'd remembered it.

Toby was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his sexy black boxer briefs that hugged just below his hips. My breath caught in my throat and my pulse pounded. I wanted him so badly that my body trembled, longing to touch his perfect body.

As if noticing me gaping at him, he turned and his eyes immediately moved over me appreciatively, taking in my chestnut-colored waves of hair, then stopping at the garter lingerie that clung to my body. Toby froze, his eyes widening and his mouth fell open. For several long seconds, he didn't speak, making me blush wildly.

Finally, he stood, still looking mesmerized. I slowly walked over to him until I was standing right in front of him. The moonlight bathed over his skin, smelling of soap and sugar and taking my breath away. His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, flickering with lust.

Toby reached for me, running his hands up and down my sides affectionately, and stared into my eyes. "You're so perfect," he breathed.

I forgot how to breathe. I was incredibly turned on. Every muscle in my body was aching to touch him, to feel him against me. My heart sped up as I imagined the lustful, wild passionate love we were going to make.

Then Toby met my mouth with his and brushed his lips along my cheek, grazing my skin gently with his teeth. "I missed you so much." His breath tickled my ear.

"Oh, I missed you, too," I whispered.

I brushed my check against his and tilted my face toward his. He drew me against the curve of his body, and we kissed feverishly, our hands roaming all over each other's backs.

I played with the waistband of Toby's boxers and reached my hand underneath to stroke his skin, and he moaned in desire. I continued to rub his buttcheeks. In response, he slid his hand down my butt and cupped my right cheek, squeezing gently.

I gasped and pressed my lips hard against his, feeling the warmth flood my body. Toby slid his hands over my hips, and he lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. When I did, he backed us up against the bed and crawled on top of me with animal passion. I opened my legs for him and grinded against his hips, begging for him to take me.

Toby deepened the kiss, and I eagerly reciprocated. I let out a loud moan as his tongue mingled with mine. He unleashed himself on me, moving his hands slowly over my body, caressing me. I could feel the heat of his skin, searing my own. Toby brought my body to life, every touch electrifying my skin.

He hitched my leg up to his hip and then slid his hand down my bare thigh, squeezing it. His fingers moved to the straps of my garters and ripped them off, tugging them down. I let out a wild gasp and connected my mouth back to his. I took his lower lip between my teeth and nibbled down gently, and I heard him release a low growl of pleasure. He slipped his hands underneath my lace slip, pushing the fabric past my legs. My limbs melted.

We didn't keep our clothes on for very long. Toby hastily tore off the rest of my lingerie and tossed it across the room. I eased his boxers off next and threw them onto the carpeted floor. Then he slid his hand inside my underwear and teased at the thin waistband, and I gasped again. He moved lower, taking his time kissing below the lace and my thighs, and then dragged it down with his teeth.

We were both naked now. Toby pressed his lips along my neck and nibbled, moving lower. I slowly trailed my lips up the length of his arm as he slid down to kiss my chest and stomach, running his tongue over my naked navel. It made me moan.

He finished kissing my body before coming back up to return his lips to mine, kissing me hard. My blood boiled, burning my skin. It scorched through every nerve in my body, slowly spreading from my toes all the way up to my head, consuming me.

I kicked my thong out of the way, and Toby yanked the covers over us. I rolled on top of him and pushed him hard against the mattress, straddling him. I ran my hands over his chest, and he groaned. My body throbbed, full of desire and a wildness that only Toby could pull out of me.

I leaned down to kiss his chest and stomach. Toby pushed me back aggressively against the pillows and, in a swift motion, he was on top of me again, molding himself against me perfectly. A spew of giggles escaped my mouth before I could stop it. Toby mimicked it, his easy laughter rumbling from his chest and bounced off the walls.

I wrapped my right leg around him, inviting him in, and he pressed his body hard against mine. He wanted me. He loved me. I thrilled at the realization that he was going to make me scream. We were going to make love.

Toby slipped his tongue into my mouth and we kissed wildly. He was kissing me with so much feeling and passion, I didn't want him to stop. He rubbed against my bare skin and ran his feet up and down my legs, groaning deeply. My body quivered in anticipation. I felt bare, exposed. Ready.

He must have felt it too, because one of his hands tangled through my hair while the other wound around my waist, holding onto me. Then our bodies entwined. When he was inside me, I kissed his neck fiercely and knotted my fingers through the soft waves of his hair, urging him on. He moved rhythmically and slowly against me, and I was getting hotter by the minute.

He brushed his fingers against my lips and I kissed each one, sucking on them greedily. Toby tasted better than the sweetest candy.

He covered his mouth over mine again, kissing me hungrily, bending my leg at his hip and tightening his arm around my back. His movements became more intense, and soon he was grinding into me.

We were sweating all over now and panting heavily. My heart thudded inside my chest, knowing that Toby was wet and naked in my bed, pressed against me. And then we were making noises. His mouth hung open as he moaned. He rolled his hips sensually against me, and we were gasping into each other's mouths. When he moved deeper inside me and reached the spot, I howled out in pleasure and locked my legs around his body, pulling him closer.

I couldn't stop the noises that escaped my mouth, but I didn't care. The surge of excitement and happiness that coursed through me from being so close to Toby again felt so natural and comfortable, it was as if I'd done it a thousand times. I couldn't remember where I ended and he began.

I brushed my lips against his ear. "Harder."

Toby thrust against me roughly. I dug my fingers hard into his back and yelped in content. I felt myself losing all control, and I couldn't stop what I did next.

I reached underneath the covers to slide my hand past his waist and grabbed his butt. I moved lower, gently tugging at his member. Toby groaned and clutched at the sheets, tugging at my lower lip with his teeth. He kissed the underside of my jaw, lightly licking my skin, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. The soft touch of his mouth on my skin was intoxicating.

I untangled myself from his arms and turned over onto my side, indicating to him that I wanted to change our position. Instinctively, he moved in behind me and grasped my hips. I felt his chest rub against my back as he gave me slow, steady thrusts. When I moved against him, he clutched my hips tighter and thrusted harder against me, panting hard. I yelped and started to pant in sync with his.

I couldn't get enough of him. He wasn't just inside of me anymore, he was a part of me.

I felt him pull away and disappointment bit at me. I didn't want to stop. But instead of moving away from me, his lips traveled slowly down my spine to my butt cheek and he nibbled. I gasped heavily, and he dug his teeth into me harder. I moaned deeply as he moved his lips along my hipbone, licking me gently.

Suddenly, he sat up and gently rolled me over so that I was lying underneath him. He pushed my legs apart as far as they would go and entered me again. I threw my thighs against his hips, spreading them. Toby got up on his knees slightly and thrust his hips forward, pushing himself fiercely but gently inside me.

"That feels amazing," I moaned. I clutched a fistful of sheets in my hand as he pushed into me deeply.

Toby groaned. He tightened his arms around my legs and continued to thrust fiercely, and I shouted, "Oh yes!" over and over.

A fiery jolt settled in the middle of my body that rose to my head, and I started to tremble beneath him. As if sensing this, Toby slid his arm around my back and massaged my lower waist, relaxing me. I put my arms around him and hugged him to me, closing my eyes. He kept kissing my lips, moving into me deeply until he found the right spot. I heard him cry out.

"Right theeerrrreeeeee!" I screamed.

Waves of pleasure burned through my body like a blazing hot fire, and I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt so amazing, so pleased and desired in my entire life.

I threw my legs around his back and moved into him. "Please, don't stop!"

We moved in unison, alternating between making tender and passionate love. We couldn't stop. I felt like I was going to explode, but at the same time, I wanted to hold on to this feeling forever. I needed him like I needed air.

After a while, Toby pulled back briefly to gaze lovingly into my eyes, cradling my face in his hands.

"I love you," he breathed. His voice choked, as if it was hard to get the words out. My heart throbbed.

I stared back into his eyes and swallowed. "I love you, too."

Toby pressed his lips tenderly against mine and wrapped his arms around me.

After spending hours of lovemaking, my limbs started to feel sore, our thrusts slowing. I collapsed beside Toby and snuggled into his chest, exhausted.

We spent a few minutes kissing, and I felt utterly content. As he held me, I slipped my tongue between his teeth, nearly swallowing him. I couldn't stop kissing him; his kisses were so addictive. He twisted his hands through my hair and pressed his mouth against mine, never letting go.

Toby slowly pulled away, his lips lingering softly on mine. Then he moved his hand to caress my face, staring into my eyes. I didn't want to stop looking at him. I leaned my cheek into his palm and parted my lips under it. He shuddered.

As Toby wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my hair, I smiled and pressed my cheek against his chest. My heart was full of so much love for him that I thought I would burst. I never wanted us to be apart ever again.

"I love being in your arms," I murmured.

Toby tightened his hold on me. "I love holding you in my arms." He kissed my hair and then rested his cheek against the top of my head.

I sighed. "Never let me go."

"Never," he promised.

I wrapped my arms around him more tightly, needing to be closer to him still. I wanted to lie here like this forever in his arms.

His fingers softly trailed up and down the contours of my back as he stroked small, soothing circles onto my skin. This was better than any of my wildest dreams.

I felt amazing and blissfully happy, and the certainty that everything was alright as I drifted off to sleep in Toby's arms. I was safe.


	5. Chapter 5

5\. Birth of Innocence

My eyes blinked open in the morning as I slowly adjusted to the light streaming in through the loft's window. The clock on the bedside table read 6:30 A.M., and I could smell the delicious aroma of eggs and pancakes wafting from downstairs. A smile tugged at my lips.

It was Wednesday morning, and I was still lying naked in Toby's bed. My face reddened at the memory of what Toby and I did last night. Over and over. I must have been asleep for twelve hours at the very least. A warm sense of security enveloped me like a security blanket, and for the first time in three years, I felt absolutely perfect.

Later last night, Toby and I had fallen into bed immediately and hadn't gotten up for anything except to cuddle and kiss. After we'd finally drifted off to sleep, Toby wrapped his arms around me and held me underneath the covers. The way he'd held me felt so wonderful and comforting. When he wasn't here, my mind spun in circles and my body chilled all over, making it impossible to sleep without him. But last night I'd slept soundlessly. Part of it might have been because I'd been sleeping next to Toby the entire night, the one person who could ever make me feel completely and utterly safe.

I felt for Toby on his side of the bed next to me, but frowned when I noticed he was gone. I realized he must have gotten up early to make breakfast.

I pulled back the covers, sighing happily. As soon as my feet touched the ground, my stomach heaved. My hand flew to my mouth as another wave of nausea washed over me and rushed to my head, another symptom of pregnancy I could never get used to. I tried standing up slowly, but only ended up staggering clumsily into the dresser.

I grabbed a pair of Toby's boxers and one of his T-shirts from his top dresser drawer and pulled them on. I waited for the nausea to subside before steadying myself and padded out the door.

Feeling groggy and disoriented, I walked down the stairs and stepped into the warm kitchen. Inside, I could smell brewed herbal chamomile tea and the fresh aroma of pancakes. Toby stood at the stove, frying up some scrambled eggs. A stack of chocolate-chip pancakes sat on a plate on the kitchen counter. His hair was messy from sleep and a pair of low-waisted boxer briefs from last night clung below his hips.

My lower lip parted slightly and I felt my legs tremble, weak with desire. The sudden urge to touch Toby and rip off his clothes overwhelmed me. I glanced at the firmness in his thighs and hips with a painful stab of despair, wanting so badly to run my hands down his body. There was no way this godlike creature was mine.

A hot, tingling sensation pulsed below my navel and my heart sped up overtime. I stared at Toby's perfect muscular body, over the contours of his chest and rock-hard abdomen. I couldn't seem to take my eyes off him, watching as the sculpted muscles in his stomach bulged with his every movement. It was very hard to resist the overpowering part of myself that yearned to jump his bones right then.

I thought I heard myself speak, but I was too drunk with desire to fully register it.

Toby looked up and met my eyes with his sparkling blue ones. "I thought we could have breakfast together before I left for the station."

I smiled. "I'd love that."

I moved to stand behind Toby and wrapped my arms around him as he cooked. When I felt him lean against me, I kissed him on the shoulder and rested my cheek against it, closing my eyes. Flames of heat scorched my lips from his skin, intensifying my attraction towards him.

We stood there in silence, not having to say anything. The quiet didn't bother us. That was just the way it was between Toby and I. After a few minutes, he flipped the pancakes and eggs onto a plate.

Finally, unable to ignore it any longer, I cupped his face in between my hands and kissed him forcefully. I felt Toby slide his hands down to my butt and cupped them, and I let out a deep moan against his lips. He captured my lower lip between his teeth as he gasped.

I grabbed the back of his neck fiercely and kissed him harder, shoving my tongue gently down his throat. Toby groaned and pushed me against the kitchen counter, kissing my neck. My hands tangled through his hair, pressing myself closer to him.

I wanted him. _Bad_.

I dove for the waistband of his boxers, slowly lowering them off his hips. In that instant, Toby yanked off my shirt and quickly lifted me onto the counter. I pressed my hands firmly to his face and wrapped my legs around his naked waist, kissing him in a passionate haze.

Toby's fingers skimmed my stomach, softly cupping my bare breasts. I curled up my legs against his hips, groaning.

"Mmmm," he moaned.

Toby dragged down the boxers from around my hips with his teeth, pulling them off in mere seconds. He stood back for a minute, roaming his eyes wildly over my naked body in lust. He was getting ready.

Toby reluctantly moved to turn off the stove before reattaching his lips back to mine. Then he gently spread apart my legs and wrapped them back around his waist.

This was it, I realized with excited anticipation. We were going to have scorching hot, unbridled, mind-blowing sex. I dug my fingers into his back as I felt him move inside me.

Toby grasped my waist as he thrusted hard, rubbing against me in swift movements. I moaned as he gave it to me.

I bit his shoulder. "More, more, more!"

Toby bent back my left leg and then rested his knee against the counter as he pushed in, grinding into me.

I jerked my knees up against his hips. "Oh, god!" I cried.

I screamed in pleasure while Toby grunted and moaned with each of his thrusts. After several minutes of jerking and thrusting, I collapsed against his chest. Toby cupped the side of my face and stroked my hair, holding me closer to him. I breathed in his scent.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just–"

"Shhh," Toby murmured, holding my face softly in his hands. "You have every right to feel this way. I just want to make you happy."

I stared into his eyes meaningfully. "I am happy."

Then he pressed his lips very tenderly against mine, deepening the kiss. His lips lingered on mine, and he kissed my forehead.

Toby smiled. "Now let's eat the breakfast that your boyfriend made for you."

I was suddenly ravenously hungry. I could hear my stomach growling in protest as if to remind me, which happened every hour now that I was eating for two.

We slowly changed back into our underwear, as much as I ached to be naked with him. Then I grabbed the plate of eggs and pancakes that Toby had prepared, and sat at the kitchen table.

"Mmm, smells good." I took a hungry bite of pancakes and swallowed appreciatively. The gooey chocolate mixed in with the batter melted in my mouth.

Toby scraped back a chair and sat next to me at the table. "Thanks. You've been eating a lot of pancakes and eggs lately."

Immediately, my hand dropped to my stomach. "I know. This pregnancy is making me crave all these weird foods."

"Do you still want me to go with you to the doctor's appointment today?" he asked.

After I told Toby I was carrying his child, Toby had called my doctor yesterday morning to set up an appointment for us to see if the baby was safe and healthy. I was four months pregnant, and we still didn't know the sex of our baby yet.

My chest tightened in panic. "Yes, I need you there."

The hormones raging through me made it difficult to hold back the tears. I wanted him to go with me. The thought of doing it alone made my chin tremble.

Toby reached over to wipe a few tears that had trickled down my cheek. "Hey, I'll be there. I told you, I'm not going anywhere." His eyes were gentle.

I smiled in relief, and he leaned over to press his lips against mine.

As I took another mouthful of pancakes, Toby's cell phone on the kitchen counter began to ring. Toby looked at me. "I should get that. It's probably the station."

I frowned. "Why would they be calling you this early?"

"Tanner is having everyone working overtime to find the person who did this to you and your friends."

I saw the strain in his eyes as he spoke and my heart shattered. I hated seeing him like this. Ever since Toby became a cop to protect me, he'd been working intently on cases and I knew it was putting stress on him.

The phone rang again. Toby put down his fork and stood up. "I'll be right back."

I heard him take the call down the hall and, without being able to stop myself, more tears ran down my cheeks. The thought of Toby leaving, even for just a short period of time, was too much.

When Toby returned to the kitchen and saw the tears spilling down my face, his expression turned very soft. "Hey…" He immediately kneeled down in front of me and ran his hands up and down my arms soothingly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied, but my voice cracked, giving me away. Embarrassed, I tried dabbing at the moisture with my fingers.

He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away the stray tears. "You can tell me. We tell each other everything."

"I don't want you to go and I can't stop crying," I wept.

Toby drew me into the protective enclosure of his arms, stroking my hair. I buried my face into his chest and began to sob.

He held me closer and rubbed my back. "Spencer, shhh." His voice wasn't irritated or cautious, like he had to be careful what he said to me, unlike most people whenever my voice cracked. He was patient and kind, and it made me love him even more for it.

I pressed my face into his neck, feeling my breaths slow. After a few blissful minutes of Toby holding me in his arms, he slowly pulled away to gaze intensely into my eyes.

"Spence, I'm not leaving you again, I promise. I meant it when I said I would be there for you and the baby." He moved his hand down to my stomach, rubbing it gently.

"You have to go to the police station, don't you?" I said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Toby nodded. "Yes. Tanner wants me to come in to go over the documents for the case."

My heart dropped and I lowered my head glumly. Toby caught my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him. "I'll be back at one for our doctor's appointment, okay?" He smoothed my hair back from my face. "Just focus on my kisses until then."

Toby cupped my cheek gently in his palm and moved his lips against mine lovingly. "Then I'm all yours." He kissed my cheeks, my chin, my nose.

I closed my eyes from his touch, sighing deeply. My insides turned to goo from his affection.

"We can watch your favorite movie when we get home," he offered, and kissed me.

I sighed again. "That sounds perfect."

Toby pressed his lips deeply and lovingly against mine. I entwined my arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much need. He pecked me two times on the lips, then carried his half-eaten plate to the sink and went upstairs to change. He came back down five minutes later decked out in his police uniform that clung nicely to his perfectly muscled chest. His hair was combed and smoothed out now.

Toby grabbed his Rosewood PD bag and kissed my forehead. "I'll see you soon. Love you."

"I love you, too."

After he disappeared out the door, I scarfed down the rest of my breakfast and walked back upstairs to Toby's bedroom. I quickly showered, letting the semi-hot water rinse my skin and hair, unknotting all my tense muscles. As much as I scrubbed and rinsed my body, I still could not get clean enough to rid myself of the filth from that dreadful Dollhouse. Then I shampooed my hair, hoping the familiar scent would calm my anxiety about the doctor's appointment for this afternoon, but also feeling totally blissful about the wonderful place Toby and were now.

I stepped out of the shower, wrapped securely in a towel. The apartment smelled like soap and steam. I tried to blow-dry my damp hair as fast as possible.

I crossed back to the room and surveyed my dark jeans, undies, black-and-white striped shirt, and boots lying in a haphazard heap on the floor. If I wanted to be dressed decently, I would have to rush home and change clothes before my mother noticed I wasn't there the night before.

It was difficult to find anything to wear now because almost all of my bras felt too tight now and made me chest swell. I'd gone from an A cup to a B in just a matter of four short weeks. I realized that I needed to go shopping later for new clothes since my body was changing so rapidly.

Moving to the mahogany-wooden dresser, I stared at my pallid reflection in the mirror. My skin was paled out, looking sallow and unhealthy, hair strewn around my face. And my eyes were red and puffy from crying. It felt like I'd been doing that a lot lately. Ever since I'd gotten pregnant, my emotions had intensified, making me cry nonstop.

I picked up my round brush that I'd left over at Toby's for occasions like this and began raking it through my tangled hair until it was silky and smoothed out. Finally, my dark locks fell in tumbled soft waves past my shoulders.

Suddenly, my cell phone rang, startling me. It was still resting on the bedside table where I'd left it last night.

I picked it up and frowned, wondering who was calling. Emily's number lit up across the screen. It was unlike Emily to call so early in the morning.

"Hey, Em," I said quizzically into my iPhone.

"Sara's here," she said when I answered. "She says her mom doesn't want her back home."

My mouth fell open in shock. "Where is she going to stay?"

"My mom is letting her stay here for a while," Emily responded.

"Did she tell the police that she saw Andrew in that place?"

"Sara doesn't think that Andrew is the one responsible for what happened to us," she replied. "She thinks it was someone else."

Sweat prickled at the back of my neck. "Who?"

"She doesn't know."

"Did she say anything more?" I asked.

"Just that, when she saw Andrew on the news, she didn't think he was the one who kept her down there."

"Okay, well details, Emily," I demanded with frustration. "Did she give you any details? Why is she sure?"

"She's not sure-sure, just pretty sure."

"Was it the way that he walked, or the sound of his breathing?" I listed the examples, searching for some sort of explanation to back up Sara's theory.

"She didn't say."

"Where is she now?"

"Taking a shower," Emily said. "She takes a lot of showers."

I swallowed bitterly. I knew the feeling all too well. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

She paused. "Spencer, Sara was trapped for over two years. Andrew was in school with us the whole time."

I frowned. "Yeah, well, Mona was stalking the halls when she was A. It didn't exactly cramp her style."

"Mona didn't have someone caged up like an animal," Emily pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," I admitted, the realization sinking in. "You can't exactly ask for a hall pass to go feed your hostage."

I hated to think that Andrew wasn't really Charles, because if he wasn't, that meant we were right back to where we started. I couldn't do this now, not when Toby and I were about to find out the gender of our baby. Why of all days did it have to be today? A couldn't let me happy, even for one second.

I felt my throat close up. "Emily, I have to go. My mom just walked in."

"Okay, bye."

And with that, I hung up. I glanced at the clock; it was seven forty-five. My mom couldn't know I'd spent the night with Toby. She'd have me locked away in the house and never let me leave. I hurriedly grabbed my bag and headed out the door, careful to lock up before leaving the apartment.

Outside, the early morning sky was crystal-blue and the air smelled like fresh grass and lilacs. But I couldn't enjoy the perfect day, because it was anything but perfect. Already, my stomach felt like it had grown to twice the size that day before, and my face was blotchy and paler than usual.

When I reached my Toyota Highlander, I sank against the leather seat and put the car into drive. The engine started quickly, and I sped off down the road. As I drove, a million thoughts raced through my mind, making my head throb painfully. About Charles, the baby, about Toby. Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Alison were my best friends, but there was something huge that I wasn't telling them.

I didn't even know where to begin to tell my friends about the baby. But if I did, it would change everything. It would make it more real. And they would know that I was more vulnerable to Charles more now than ever because I was carrying Toby's child, and I didn't want them to have to carry the weight of that burden. This had to be kept a secret, or else A would hurt my child and my friends. So I had to pretend everything was the way it was before everything that had happened in the dreadful Dollhouse. I couldn't lose control now. Any slip-up could awaken the beast and destroy everything I loved.

I finally pulled into the private driveway of my house, a massive Victorian-style with its own separate barn apartment. It was now 8:00 A.M., and hopefully my mother would already be at work right now.

I cautiously opened the front door. The only sound was the humming of the air conditioning vents. I tiptoed quietly up to my room, my nerves vibrating. I ended up changing into my denim-blue BCBG Tamera dress and matching long-sleeved shirt, which I tied around my middle, and shoved my feet into a pair of All Saints ankle black leather boots.

I glanced out my window into Ali's backyard that bordered mine, and then let out an exasperated sigh. Emily's suspicions about whether Andrew wasn't the one who trapped us in that Dollhouse made something click in my brain, like the flipping of an on switch, and that scared me. I would have to talk to Ali about it today if I wanted answers. And I was suspicious of Mr. DiLaurentis; why would he lie about Charles not being in their family? I was well aware that he had told Ali that Charles DiLaurentis didn't exist, but I had to make her see the truth. She needed to make him tell her the truth.

I kept thinking uneasily about how familiar Charles felt in the Dollhouse and my mind immediately went to Ali–of everything our families had been through, the secrets that tore mine apart.

As I made it down the drive and crossed Ali's front steps, I could swear I saw a dark figure lurking close by behind me. Chills raced down my spine. But by the time I turned around, the only thing in the street were leaves rustling in the wind.

I walked up to the door and pressed the doorbell. A minute later, the DiLaurentis's front door was flung open. Mr. DiLaurentis stood before me, wearing a white striped business shirt and a purple symmetric tie, as if he was working from home. He had salt-and-pepper hair and the contours of his face were slightly worn, cut at strong chiseled angles. Looking at him now, I could see how Jason grew up to be such a heartthrob.

"Hello, Spencer," he said coolly.

Things had been shaky between the Hastings and the DiLaurentis' ever since my father's affair with Alison's mom came to light, and it didn't help that that my friends and I had made a human barricade to land Alison in jail for killing Mona.

"Is Alison home?" I asked.

"She's upstairs getting dressed." Mr. DiLaurentis stepped out of the way.

I passed the hall and climbed up the stairs to Ali's room. Inside the room, Ali sat at her vanity dresser, her back to me. She was putting on her gold dangle earrings, and had on a turquoise silk cutout top and dark skinny Paige jeans.

I tapped the open door softly, and Ali turned, looking surprised to see me. "Hey," she said. "What are you doing here?"

I moved to sit on the edge of her bed, meeting her curious gaze from underneath my lashes. "I came here to talk about Charles."

Alison sighed and turned back to the mirror. "I told you what my father said."

"You _have_ to ask him again," I insisted. "You have to _make_ him tell you."

"He looked at me and said that there was no such person as Charles DiLaurentis in our family."

"Ali, your father is lying to you!" I yelled. "A didn't just pick that name out of the air."

"A is for Andrew," she replied stubbornly.

"Then why put the name Charles DiLaurentis right in front of us? Hidden, but hidden just enough. Why did he want us to find it?"

Ali stood up. "Look, if this person is real and my dad knows who it is, he'd be down at the police station right now." She yanked her black leather Steve Madden bag off the bed furiously.

"I really wish I was as sure of that as you are," I said. "If you actually are that sure."

Alison paused. "I think you should go now."

I stared at her in disbelief, then turned for the door. "I'm going to talk to Jason," I threatened.

"No," Ali ordered firmly. "Leave him out of it. He's messed up enough because of all this."

"Then he has a right to know and maybe get un-messed." I faced her with steeled eyes. "He's my brother, too. Our families are connected. They're more than just connected, they're all tangled up like necklaces in the bottom of your jewelry box."

"Leave him alone. I don't want anybody else hating me."

I stared at her, confused. "What makes you think he's gonna hate you?"

Alison didn't speak for a moment. "Because that's how it works." She slowly sat down on the bed, her eyes watering. "I'm under every stone that somebody turns over. I make people into people that they never were. It's all my fault. I saw you and Em and Aria and Hanna in that place, in that sick place, and I knew I was why you were there. It always comes down to me. And everyone would be fine without me."

As I listened to the emotion in Ali's voice break, my heart wilted. "God, Ali, no, it's not like that." I stepped closer to her.

"You think it yourself," Ali disagreed.

"No, I don't." I looked at her with concern, instantly regretting bringing up Jason.

A long, awkward silence passed between us. Eventually, Ali broke the silence.

"I'd like to be alone right now." She averted her face away.

I strolled through the door, leaving a somber Alison to drown in her self-pity. A part of me wanted to go back and comfort her, but another part knew it would do no good. Once Ali set an idea in her head, it was hard to change her mind.

When I slipped back into my house, I headed straight for the upstairs bathroom, already feeling the tears beginning to form.

My head started to throb. Shutting the door to my bathroom, I rushed to the side of the sink and grabbed a towel from the rack, wetted it under the faucet, and then dabbed it at my eyes and cheeks. Maybe when this whole pregnancy roller coaster was over in four months, my body would return back to normal from the crazy hormonal haywire that I'd been enduring and my head would stop spinning. But more than anything, I desperately wished that Toby was here with me to comfort me. I _needed_ him here. A sudden wave of misery hit me with extreme force, and a raw, sharp singeing pain settled right below my stomach. I had to pee.

I squeezed my thighs and hobbled as quickly as I could toward the toilet, praying to make it in time. I clenched my teeth and pressed my legs tighter together in an effort to hold it. As soon as I sat down on the toilet seat, I breathed out a sigh of relief. Warmth swelled between my thighs and trickled through as the muscles in my legs released.

As the baby grew and put pressure on my bladder, it caused me to pee more often, especially at night. I had to spend most of my money on menstrual pads and floral-scented perfume just to hide my pregnancy.

After I was done, I laid back against the pillows of my bed, thinking I could rest before Toby had to come over to pick me up for our doctor's appointment later. I wanted to curl up underneath my blankets. The second I settled against my soft comforter, a dull, aching pain shot through me and exploded down my lower back, and I winced.

I rolled over onto my side, hoping it would help ease the pain, and groaned. It was excruciating to move my back while I was lying down. I was situating myself on the bed to get comfortable when my cell phone vibrated from the bedside table. I reached for it and clicked _read_.

JUST LIKE BABIES, LIES ONLY GROW BIGGER. AND THIS SECRET CAN BE DANGEROUS. – A

I froze. _The baby._ The abrupt shock of realization hit me so hard it nearly knocked me to the ground. A wanted revenge and was using my unborn child to do it, but for what? Why was he still doing this to me?

I'd been so busy worrying about Andrew that I'd nearly forgotten the real danger lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to strike. Now that I was sure Andrew was not Charles, the real person responsible was planning his next move against me and my friends. We were just pawns in Charles' twisted game. But the person who was really in danger was growing inside of me.

It felt like I was caught between two worlds; one with Emily, Aria, Alison and I, and the other with Toby and our unborn baby. If I lived in a world where I could have both my friends and my baby, my life would be complete. But I knew that if I wanted to keep both of them safe, things had to stay the way they were.

Anything my friends knew about the baby could hurt all of them, including Toby, so they could never learn the truth.

Toby

During my afternoon off Wednesday afternoon, I sat at the long café table at the Apple Rose Grille's window, Rosewood's coffee bar and restaurant, before I had to pick up Spencer for our doctor's appointment to find out the sex of our baby. It was one of the older Victorian townhouses and were usually split into apartments and leased to residents of the area, but had been converted into a café on the lower floor.

I stared out the window that looked out on Main Street as I took a sip of my steaming-hot hazelnut coffee. And that's when I saw them: Lorenzo and Alison.

Lorenzo wore a navy-blue Rosewood soccer team T-shirt and casual dark jeans while talking animatedly to Alison, who hung onto his every word like it was the most important thing in the world. Hanging from around his neck was a stopwatch. Every year, Rosewood's church ran a soccer program for kids and had people like Lorenzo volunteer to coach them.

Ali glanced toward the soccer field across the street, Lorenzo smiling at her with a warm expression. I took a long sip out of my coffee mug and swallowed.

I glowered at her suspiciously, watching as she tossed her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder. There was something about the way Ali let out an easy laugh that made me tense. Were they…flirting? Alison and Lorenzo continued to banter for a few minutes longer before a group of kids came racing across the field towards a flying soccer ball. I tore my eyes away.

Alison had a talent for finding a person's weakness and then using it to exploit them into doing her dirty work. When the police suspected Ali was the one who killed Mona, she got desperate and took a lie detector test, with the help of Detective Holbrook, to get taken off the suspect list. But after she was questioned, Spencer replaced her at the top of the list. Whether Alison was trying to protect the girls from A or not, she ultimately put them right in his path, especially Spencer.

The only reason why Ali helped save Spencer and her friends from that twisted Dollhouse was because she needed them and Mona alive for her own selfish motives. She was and always would be looking out for Ali. She had a way of dazzling people into getting what she wanted. In their eyes, Alison was painted as this perfect and beautiful mystical being that you would do anything to be able to touch, to possess. After everything that had happened, I wanted to trust her, but I couldn't just ignore her history of charming cops and anyone else she could use.

It was one thing putting up with her around Spencer, but I couldn't have Alison getting in the middle of my personal life. If I wanted to keep that from happening, I knew what I had to do. Lorenzo may not have known what she was capable of, but I did.

I glanced at the digital clock on my phone. It blinked 12:45. Spencer and I would be late to see the doctor if I didn't leave now.

Downing the remainder of my coffee, I slipped my phone back into my pocket and left change for the bill before walking out the door. The street was full of mothers and citizens of Rosewood, watching the boys and girls practicing for the upcoming soccer game. A car paused at the light, just a few blocks away from me. I looked at the soccer field, then back at the sidewalk where Ali had been talking to Lorenzo, but saw that she was gone.

I told myself to breathe, incredibly concerned about the exchange between Alison and my partner that I'd just witnessed. Then I unlocked the front door of my truck and climbed in, heading toward Spencer's house.

Spencer

Later that afternoon, instead of going back to school with Hanna, I flopped down on the couch in the living room and turned on _The Big Sleep_ , thinking it would make for a nice distraction from the text A had sent me–the one threatening my baby. While Lauren Bacall was working alongside Humphrey Bogart in the complicity of the Sternwood murders, I thought about C sections and morning sickness.

The rest of the movie passed by in a blur. I didn't even know who the suspect was. It felt like I was in one of those black and white films, just like Laure and Humphrey, where everything went by in slow motion, but instead I was watching a different version of myself from the other side.

The one thing I had to look forward today was seeing Toby's glorious face and having him by my side all day. But I'd been feeling grouchy, bloated, hungry, and exhausted all throughout the day; I couldn't seem to get enough rest no matter how many long hours I'd slept. I had to get up three times to use the bathroom during my nap just so I could throw up from morning sickness, and then again when I scarfed down a plate of Jalapeno chicken enchiladas.

I was so engrossed in my dilemma that I almost didn't hear my iPhone buzzing. I picked it up from the coffee table, wondering who was calling. I had a new text message from Toby. _I'm outside,_ it said.

I noticed the time on my phone said 12:50, ten minutes till we had to get to the hospital for our appointment.

By the time I grabbed my bag and started down the private drive of my house, Toby was already at the bottom waiting for me, leaning against the side of his truck. He'd changed out of his police uniform and was instead wearing a long-sleeved checkered blue-and-white button down shirt and dark jeans. My heart immediately picked up at the sight of him.

His eyes lit up when he saw me, and I sparkled back at him. I ran into his arms when I reached him. Toby picked me up and wrapped his strong arms around me affectionately, hugging me to him. I was sure he could hear my thudding heartbeat.

I moved my legs around his waist, squeezing my thighs at his hips. I thought I heard Toby moan. I wanted to have sex with him. _Bad_.

When Toby set me down, I nuzzled further into his chest and sighed, breathing in his wonderful scent. He smelled like sandalwood and soap, two things I loved most in this world.

After a few moments we pulled away to stare at each other, touching the tips of our noses. Toby kept his arms around me as he looked into my eyes. I couldn't look away from his penetrating gaze, too transfixed.

"Ready?" The corners of Toby's lips turned up into a playful smile. He rubbed his nose back and forth across mine affectionately.

We were finally going to find out the sex of our baby. Whether it was a boy or a girl. My insides sparkled at the thought.

I smiled back. "Yes. Let's go."

He walked around the truck to hold open the door for me. I slid into the passenger seat of the warm vehicle. When Toby gently closed the door behind me, I set my bag down on the floor. That's when I saw it.

Sitting on the passenger-side floor was my favorite pillow from my bed. It was thick and fluffy with light pink flowers decorated on the soft, white fabric. I picked up the pillow and pressed it to my nose, inhaling its familiar scent. It smelled like lilacs and a little bit of Toby, since I'd been sleeping on it next to him every night. It calmed my nerves and melted away all my fears when I breathed it in at night.

"I brought that for you," Toby said. "Just in case."

I looked up. Toby had already gotten into the driver's seat.

My heart warmed at him. Pulling the pillow into my lap, I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," I whispered, softly brushing my nose across his cheek.

Toby gave me a sweet, genuine smile in response. "Anything for my girl." Then he reached over and started the truck.

"How are you feeling?" Toby asked after a few minutes.

"Nauseous." I moved my hand to my stomach. "I threw up all day."

Toby reached over to take my hand in his, giving me a gentle squeeze to comfort me.

I looked around the truck. Every line and detail inside the familiar space was a reminder of all the good memories I'd spent in here with Toby–the secret make out sessions we'd had hidden among the cloak of trees in Rosewood, when we said our first 'I love you's to each other, the several occasions Toby had driven me home and to school.

All at once, another memory came to me, from the night A had set Toby's family's house on fire. After I'd confessed everything to him about my parents separating and Shana's death, Toby held me, telling me I was never alone. Then I leaned to him and pressed my lips tenderly against his, sparking our need to be closer. His lips felt so good moving against mine, I couldn't get enough. I straddled his hips and ran my hands through his hair, kissing him like I'd never kissed him before.

Toby cupped my cheek and slid an arm around my back, kissing me back slowly and deeply. We couldn't control ourselves. Toby clawed his hands up my back and I melted into him, giving in.

My lips hardened against his as I started to unbutton Toby's shirt, intensifying our passion. He gently pressed my body against his to bring me closer to him and moved his hands underneath my shirt, and unhooked the clasp of my bra. We were kissing each other greedily now, biting and sucking, and running our hands all over each other's bodies.

Toby pulled at the zipper on my jeans and yanked them off. I was wearing nothing but my panties now, which were about to go. He flung off his shirt and threw it to the floor, and I dragged down his jeans. I ran my hands up his bare, smooth chest.

Toby kneeled on the seat and sat on his heels, sucking on my neck. I straddled his knees and flattened my feet on the leather seat as we thrusted, lowering myself onto him.

Our sweaty, naked bodies were pressed tightly against each other while we made love in the lotus position against the side windows of the truck. The windows quickly fogged up from our passion and heavy breaths. We didn't want to stop. Toby and I moaned loudly, moving rapidly together like bunnies. I felt the truck shaking slightly, but I didn't care.

I took his hand and placed it over my bare breast, letting him touch me. I sighed in pleasure as Toby moved his hands gently around my chest and stomach. Afterwards, I sat in Toby's lap and wrapped my arms and legs around his body, nuzzling into his chest. We stayed like that for a very long time.

When Emily called about Bethany Young's murder being announced on the news, Toby and I helped each other get dressed. He hooked my bra back on, and I buttoned his shirt for him. Then Toby carried me on our way to Emily's house.

I rested my head against Toby's shoulder as he continued down the streets, reluctantly drifting away from the sweet memory. We drove safely through the traffic by the Main Road to the hospital, making me more anxious by the minute.

Toby had called in early when he'd made the appointment to be sure the hospital could fit us in for the ultrasound. My hand dropped down to my stomach, feeling the warmth radiating from beneath the fabric of my dress. It was as if the baby could feel the excitement of what was happening.

When we pulled into the hospital's parking lot, Toby parked in the nearest spot by the entrance and went around to my side of the truck. He helped me down carefully and then took my hand with his free one while he carried my pillow in the other, staying very close to my side as we walked through the doors of the Rosewood Community Hospital.

Inside, Toby and I made our way to the front desk where the receptionist was typing on a computer. She was petite, but tall, with long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders and had a beautiful golden-olive completion. A pair of blue eyes were set on a heart-shaped face with flecks of light green in them, like the color of jade.

The woman looked up when she saw us approaching and smiled brightly. "Hello, how can I help you?"

"I'm Toby Cavanaugh," he informed her, "and this is my girlfriend, Spencer. We have an appointment with Dr. Webber."

"Of course," she said, and immediately went back to her computer to look up our names. She handed us some paperwork to fill out, and Toby and I handed over our insurance cards and policy information.

"And your last visit was in May?" the receptionist asked.

"Yes," I said a little nervously. I looked sideways at Toby, but he only smiled at me encouragingly.

"Okay, I see you have an appointment with Dr. Webber for today at 1:00. You can take a seat." She smiled cheerfully and gestured to the waiting room. "The doctor will be with you shortly."

I followed Toby to the waiting area and took a seat in one of the teal-green vinyl chairs, sighing shakily.

Toby placed his hand on my stomach, his eyes shining. "Hey, we're going to find out the sex of our baby."

I rested my hand over his and smiled back. "Yeah, we are."

I wondered if the baby could hear us now, if it knew Toby's voice or that he was its father. Then Toby leaned in to press his lips softly against mine.

A nurse finally called us up and led us into a small room, where a monitor stood nearby a twin-sized hospital mattress. She instructed me to lie down. Toby helped me hop up onto the mattress and carefully placed my pillow behind my head as I lay down. The nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm, and then took my temperature. She told us the doctor would come in to check on us and shut the door behind her.

I bit down nervously on my bottom lip, thinking about the text A had sent me earlier. I felt guilty for not telling my friends about my pregnancy, but I was even more terrified of what A would do to my baby if I told them the truth. A threatened me to stay away from Toby once before and I almost lost him to a loosened scaffolding for ignoring that threat. I could only imagine what might happen after the baby was born.

My breathing escalated, nearing into the zone of hyperventilation. As if sensing my anxiety, Toby reached out and squeezed my hand gently for the second time that day. I met his eyes and smiled, more appreciative of his attentiveness that I could ever express.

The door to the patient room opened, and a man in a white coat who I assumed had to be Dr. Webber, strode in. he had thick, dark grey hair and piercing charcoal-gray eyes. The lines in his face were worn with age, but I saw a warm, compassion to him.

Dr. Webber gave me a crinkly smile. "You must be Spencer. I'm Dr. Webber. How are you feeling?"

"Pregnant," I answered.

He turned to Toby. "And are you the father?"

"Yes." Toby shook Dr. Webber's outstretched hand.

After asking me a bunch of questions about my family history and Toby's, he began to ask questions regarding the pregnancy. What I've been craving, if I was experiencing any nausea or body aches, if I was having any mood swings, and all the symptoms I've been dealing with since becoming pregnant.

Dr. Webber asked if I'd been taking any prenatal vitamins for the baby's health next; the only ones I'd been taking were from after I'd been rescued from the Dollhouse. He wrote down a prescription of some special prenatal vitamins for me to try and handed me a slip of paper.

"Let's see how far along you are." Dr. Webber looked at some notes on his clipboard. "It says here that your last period was November, so that would put your due date at approximately August 9, give or take a day. You're about 16 weeks now."

"How do you know when the due date is?" Toby asked.

"We can calculate it from the first day of her last period," he answered.

Toby nodded, gently rubbing his hand across my bulging stomach.

"Have you felt any movement yet?" Dr. Webber asked me.

My heart raced. "No. Is that normal?" Toby took my hand again.

"Yes, it's completely normal, don't worry. Most women can start to feel it anytime between sixteen and twenty-two weeks, but first time mothers don't usually feel it until maybe twenty. The best time to feel it is at night, when babies are most active. Try lying on your back and see what happens." He glanced between Toby and I. "Are you two interested to know the sex of the baby?"

My heart lifted in excitement. Toby looked at me, waiting for my answer. I couldn't speak; all I could do was nod.

Dr. Webber handed me a clear plastic cup of water to drink before the ultrasound. He explained that I needed a full bladder in order to see the baby. I had to pee so badly I felt like I was going to burst, which happened more now that the baby was getting bigger.

When I swallowed the reaming water from the cup, Dr. Webber helped me lie back down on the table and opened a bottle of some Ultrasound Transition Gel. "This is going to feel a little cold," he cautioned.

Toby pulled a chair closely up to my mattress and held my hand in his, never letting me go.

Then Dr. Webber squeezed the cold goo onto my bare stomach and placed the scanner right in the middle of it. He rolled it around, trying to find the baby in the connecting monitor. A static echo immediately emerged from it. Faintly, I could hear a high-pitched _blip_ sound layered on top of the deep echo of my own heartbeat. My breath caught in my throat. Another heartbeat sped up at a smaller, faster rate. _Was that…?_

"That is the baby's heartbeat," Dr. Webber told us. "It's nice and strong. Very healthy."

I couldn't breathe. The digital screen read it was going at 150 beats per minute. Toby and I watched in amazement as the black and grey form morphed and changed as it moved.

"And that is your baby," Dr. Webber said, pointing.

I looked to where he was showing us on the screen and saw a face emerging from within the shadows came into view. Finally, the display screen stopped in a small shape, where the baby's hand was coming up to its face and its feet curled at the bottom. I realized the baby was sucking on its tiny fingers, and my heart swelled. It was so very tiny.

Toby and I stared at it in complete awe, utterly transfixed. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Dr. Webber showed us the feet and legs, then went back up to examine two arms. I was able to make out a row of small, five long lines, splaying out in an unrecognizable shape.

Toby pointed at the lines. "What is that?"

"That's a hand," Dr. Webber explained.

He rolled the scanner up to my belly button, and a U-shaped form appeared on the screen. My chest filled with sunlight at the sight of it.

Dr. Webber peered into the monitor and smiled. "Congratulations, you're having a girl."

I froze. "What? Are you sure?" My head spun dizzily, still not able to fully process it.

"A hundred percent." He pointed to the screen. "See the bottom where the legs come up here? The three little lines in the middle indicate girl parts."

I stared at the little shape in shock. Toby brought my hand to his lips, kissing it, then kissed each finger.

"I'll give you two a minute," Dr. Webber said.

"Thank you," Toby said as he left.

I covered my mouth with my hand, ready to burst into tears. Happy tears. I looked over at Toby and noticed tears of joy had filled his eyes as well. We were going to have out own little princess.

He smiled at me. "We're having a girl."

Unable to help myself, I felt the happiness bubble up. I giggled as the tears finally came to my eyes. "Oh my god, we're having a girl," I repeated giddily.

Then Toby's lips were on mine, kissing me enthusiastically several times. I smiled through the kiss, molding my mouth to his. Pure joy sprouted inside of me, like butterflies taking flight for the first time.

He pressed his forehead to mine, his lips turning up into a huge smile that mirrored my own. I closed my eyes happily. After a few long seconds, my eyes fluttered open.

Toby smiled again. "Hi, baby!" he said to my stomach. "We can't wait to meet you."

I realized he was talking to the baby. It brought more tears to my eyes, and I wondered if she could hear us. I didn't think it was possible to love Toby more than I already did. But in that moment, it felt like my heart had swelled to twice its size–so much that it hurt. But this pull towards Toby was different. It grew stronger than ever before, as if I would burst. Warmth flooded me, a glow that spread throughout my entire body.

And suddenly it wasn't gravity that was holding me to the ground anymore, but our little girl.

When I fell in love with Toby, I thought I knew what true love meant, how it felt for someone's life to change or alter completely from a single moment, but I was wrong. I'd never fully understood it until now–how the universe could come together to this one point. It was like when she moved, I moved. Nothing else mattered.

Somehow, from that one heartbeat, this baby had become the center of our universe.


	6. Chapter 6

6\. Don't Go In the Doctor's Office

Spencer

After we checked out of the hospital, Toby put an arm around my shoulders and led me to the glass doors of the exit. I felt woozy as we stepped under the awning of the hospital's main entrance and made our way to the car. Toby held my hand on the seat the entire way as he drove, and suddenly the dizziness slowly subsided. Occasionally he would glance at me and gaze into my eyes, seeming to forget the world around us for moments at a time, the sunlight reflecting tints of gold into strands of his hair.

Toby turned to me and his breathtaking smile reappeared, making my heartbeat quicken. His expression was buttery warm and I smiled giddily back at him, feeling overcome with happiness. The news of our unborn baby was still fresh in our minds. I wanted to tell him how excited and happy I was that we were having a girl, yet our child's future still hung in the balance by a precarious thread–A's balance. Hopefully by telling Toby about the threats Charles had been sending me would keep her safe.

My heart catapulted into my throat, as it had been doing a lot over the past few days, wondering if it would be a mistake confessing to Toby what I'd been hiding from him for the last week. What if A only said he'd hurt my baby to throw me off track and hurt Toby instead? As we escaped the sea of traffic, I began to consider striking a deal with Charles in exchange for my daughter's life before he could get to Toby first.

I pressed my lips together in a tight line and glanced out the window, trying to push away the dark thoughts. I secretly hoped Toby didn't notice; he could always tell when something was wrong.

As soon as Toby and I pulled into my family's private driveway, we silently headed inside and walked into the living room.

Toby looked at me, his expression soft and warm. He crossed over to me and took my hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I couldn't look at his face, afraid it might give something away.

"Is it about A?"

My heart stopped as I stared at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"You've been acting strange ever since the police arrested Andrew," he said.

I tried to hide my surprise. "Maybe."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Toby asked.

"I think I'm…kind of tired," I said.

Toby curled his fingers around my hand comfortingly. "Spencer, I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

I smiled at him faintly and a feeling of dread slowly settled over me. I looked around the room, at the Oriental rug that had been transported from Taiwan, the empty candlesticks sitting on the fireplace mantel, and the paintings that hung from the walls.

"Hey." His breath tickled my face as he pulled me in close, brushing his lips against my forehead. "It's okay." I sighed and leaned into him, happy to be pressed up against him. He smelled like sandalwood and cinnamon, and I had the sudden urge to kiss him right there.

Then Toby settled onto the couch and stretched out his hand, waiting for me. "Come over here."

I smiled, a real genuine smile this time. "What are you doing?"

He just smiled sweetly back at me. "Come here."

Wordlessly, I walked over to Toby and he pulled me into his lap. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, where I rested comfortably against him.

I laid my head against Toby's chest while he held me in his arms, feeling his heart beating. "Are you sure this is the way you want to spend the afternoon?" I asked him cautiously.

"I like being here," Toby replied simply.

He leaned in to kiss me, enjoying the sensual way his mouth moved against mine. My blood stirred, and my heartbeat spiked. In that second, I grazed his bottom lip with mine.

Was it possible to be more attracted to someone than you already were?

Toby wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in closer. I ran my hands up his chest and into his hair, trying to control myself from ripping off his jeans and shirt. He tasted so sweet, like sugar and honey.

Toby rolled his tongue across mine smoothly, his breath heavy and quick. I sighed and locked my lips to his, kissing him harder. He slid his hand up my leg, moving beneath my dress. He gently squeezed my outer thigh, stroking my underwear. I moaned and nibbled his neck.

We kissed for several minutes, until we were both out of breath. We didn't talk about anything else and fell into a peaceful silence. Naturally, I snuggled up against Toby's warm chest and dozed off to sleep.

It was something I could happily get used to for the rest of my life.

Eventually, I woke up in Toby's lap and looked up at him, who had become engrossed in a book in his hand while gently stroking my hair in the other. Somehow, we'd curled up on the couch and my feet were hanging over Toby's thighs, his fingers tangled in my hair.

I watched his face as he continued to play with the strands, the way it scrunched up in seriousness, the twitch in his mouth when his body would move with mine so I wouldn't wake. As Toby flipped through the book, his hand suddenly froze on the page. I only saw the title of chapter five when he turned to me stirring slightly in his arms.

Toby smiled down at me hugely. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty."

I stroked his cheek. "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple hours."

I smiled sheepishly at him, surprised by how long I'd slept.

"I didn't mind," he said, seeming pleased by having me in his arms for so long. "You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't want to wake you."

Toby wrapped an arm around me as I laid back against him. I smiled and closed my eyes, bursting with happiness. But as he rested his cheek against my head, I could sense something was bothering him. I heard him exhale, and I pursed my lips. After a minute, Toby finally spoke.

"I have to…" he stuttered. "I have to ask you a favor."

My eyes flickered for a moment to him. He was staring off into space, a worried look on his face.

"Name it," I said.

Toby slowly untangled himself from me and sat on the couch facing me. I crossed my legs and met his eyes.

"I need you to talk to Ali." His lips had pressed together in a tight line, his steel-blue eyes hard.

"Talk to Ali about what?" I asked curiously.

"About keeping away from Lorenzo," he said.

I frowned. "Your partner?"

Toby nodded.

"What does he have to do with Alison?"

"Nothing yet," Toby replied. "I wanna keep it that way." He gave me a knowing look.

The realization finally dawned on me. "What makes you think Ali's interested in Lorenzo?"

Toby let out a breath. "I saw them together."

"That's his business, isn't it?" I looked at him sternly. "His and Ali's."

His eyes tightened. "We're not just talking about anybody here. We're talking about Alison."

"You know, people can change," I reminded him. "She helped you find us."

"Right, cause she needed you and Mona alive," he reasoned. "She was looking out for Ali, that's what she always does."

I stared at him in disbelief. How could he say that? After everything we'd been through, Toby of all people should have understood giving someone a second chance.

"So that's it?" I said. "She just reverts back to who she was before all this happened?"

But Toby still looked concerned. "Look, I wanna trust her, believe me. But you know she has a history with cops and anybody else she can use." His voice dripped with resentment.

I looked away and ran my hands over my face. A biter, uneasiness tightened at the muscles in my stomach, making me dizzy. I felt confused and irritated at Toby for forcing me to talk about this. Once upon a time, Ali was the Queen Bee who had everyone wrapped around her finger. Except now I felt like she'd metamorphosed into a more caring and compassionate person. Someone who I'd grown to actually respect.

Toby's expression hardened, grave as stone. "Lorenzo doesn't know what she's capable of, we do." Then, abruptly, his voice softened, his eyes on me. "If you can tell me you completely trust her, I'll drop this whole thing."

The instant I looked into Toby's eyes, I knew in my heart that he meant it. Because he loved me. As he stared at me, awaiting my response, I felt myself soften. I thought about everything Toby had done to protect me, and what Ali sacrificed in order to save me and the other girls. I didn't hold Toby responsible for the pain I'd suffered from his absence. He had only been trying to protect me when he became a cop.

I considered for a moment before answering. "I do."

Toby nodded solemnly. "Okay. I'll let it go."

I touched his arm. "Thank you."

His eyes probed into mine sincerely. "I trust you."

In that instant, I crawled onto his lap, kissing the dimple in his chin tenderly. Toby slid his arms around me in response and then cupped my cheek in his hand, bringing his mouth onto mine. He kissed me so softly and deeply, it made my insides quiver.

I combed my hands through his hair, gazing at him lovingly. He had the softest pink lips and such deep blue eyes that I could swim in forever.

Toby gave me one last quick kiss on the lips before pulling me into him. I giggled and slid my hand across his chest as I snuggled up against him, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.

Toby rubbed my shoulders, kissing my hair. "Move in with me," he blurted.

I turned to stare at him, not sure if I heard him right. "What?"

"It's something we would've done eventually." His blues eyes had turned liquid and warm, staring straight into mine. "I want us to live together."

My eyes traced over his face, not finding a hint of humor in it. "Live together? Toby, I'm still in high school."

"Well, I have my GHD and you're eighteen." He paused. "Look, I know having this baby so soon isn't ideal, but it may have been the best thing that's ever happened to me. I wouldn't change anything for that. And you stay at my loft so much anyway."

My heart thrummed, moved by his words. "I love you so much, but I don't know if us living together right now is the best idea. I mean, A is still out there, and Andrew could be convicted any day now."

Toby smirked at me, his eyes playful. "Is that the only reason you won't move in with me?"

I brightened at him. "I really want to live with you. I just want to wait six months first."

Toby moved his hand to rub it across my small pregnant belly. "Spencer, you're four months pregnant and I want to be there for all of it. The doctor's appointments, the Lamaze classes, baby proofing the apartment, when she kicks for the very first time, when you have cravings and get sick. I just want to take care of you and our little nugget."

I sighed. "We haven't even told our families yet."

"Then we'll find a way to tell them together." He leaned his face toward me, his eyes smoldering. "Please, Spencer. Say yes."

My lips slowly spread up into a grin. "Yes."

Toby's eyes lit up and a huge smile appeared on his face. "You'll live with me?"

"Yes," I repeated, giggling.

Toby immediately braided his fingers into my hair, securing my face to his as he pulled me in for a kiss. I parted my lips and gasped. I could taste his scent; it rolled across my tongue smoothly, like chocolate. He clutched me to him, kissing me enthusiastically. It was enough to make me shiver with pleasure. I hardened my mouth to his, overjoyed with the prospect of starting my life with him and the excitement of our kiss.

I pressed myself closer to him, needing to feel him against me. Toby molded his frame to mine in response. He traced my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, and I moaned. He tasted so delicious and sinful. I wanted to be naked with him. It was a craving I needed so desperately from him.

Toby pulled away, breathing hard, his eyes bright with the reluctant resistance. "Oh, Spencer," he sighed. He brushed his nose across my cheek.

I pressed my forehead to his and closed my eyes. "I love you."

"I want you in my bed," he breathed, a low, raspy sound.

My body vibrated and throbbed at his words. "Take me there."

I gently captured his bottom lip between my teeth and sucked. Toby groaned. I started to slowly unbutton his shirt, but his hands caught my wrists.

"We can't," he gasped softly. "You just came back from the doctor's, and you're vulnerable right now. Help me take my mind off it."

I nodded slowly, swallowing hard. As much as I wanted to tear his clothes off, I knew he was right.

Toby kissed my cheek and situated me in his arms so that my head was resting against his chest. I reached down to touch my bump. The baby wasn't showing yet, but the bulge was just visible. "It's still so tiny, but I love it so much."

Toby took my hand, interlacing our fingers. "So do I. So much."

"I can't wait to feel her kick."

"Me, either," he sighed. He raised our entwined fingers to kiss my hand. "Our baby already has little fingers and toes. It only reminds me that it's all real."

"It is real," I said, looking at him. "I wonder how active our baby will be when she does."

Toby beamed at me. "Well, if she's anything like her mom, she'll be kicking like crazy."

I sparkled back at him, rubbing my hand across my stomach lovingly. Even through the fabric of my dress, I could still feel her inside me. It stirred up a happiness in me that I had never known–as if her very presence inside my womb awakened my strongest senses.

I leaned against his chest, his strong arms holding me. "What should we name her?"

Toby rubbed his hand affectionately across my back. "What about Cecilia?"

I scrunched up my nose in disapproval. "No, definitely not. We're not naming our child that."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Then what do you suggest?"

"I was thinking something simple, but sophisticated. Like Audrey, as in Audrey Hepburn."

Toby made a face. "No."

"Okay, fine. What do you have?"

"Amanda," he said proudly.

I hesitated. "That's a really pretty name, but I don't think I could see myself calling her that."

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" Toby retorted.

"Yes," I said. "Juliet."

"No way."

"Why?" I asked. "What's wrong with Juliet?"

"Spence, I'm not going to name our daughter after a Shakespearean character who kills herself tragically. How about Sophia?"

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "Sophia? Next."

"Do you plan on shooting down every one of my names?" Toby looked at me teasingly. "I just need to know so that I'm prepared."

"Sophia is not exactly unique or special," I shot back. "Our child's name has to say something about her."

"I think it's very unique."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Fine," he said. "Your turn."

"Ella."

Toby's eyes were cautious. "I wasn't aware that we were having a Disney princess."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, how about Emma?"

"Valerie."

I sighed, and he listed off a few more names for me, which I rejected immediately. After spending several minutes sharing the baby names we liked, Toby and I decided to take a break from our naming decision and rested in each other's arms. I pressed my cheek against his chest, nestling into his embrace. He played with my fingers, tracing the lines in my hands.

Then Toby gently laid me back against the cushions of the couch and leaned down to kiss my baby bump. "Hi, baby. Daddy loves you very much."

I giggled. "What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing your tummy," he answered. "Our baby needs attention and belly kisses. Lots and lots of kisses." He pressed his lips all over my stomach, kissing it over and over.

Then suddenly, Toby pushed my dress halfway up my middle, revealing short and sexy, lacy black panties–definitely not the kind of thing worn by a girl who was pregnant. My eyes were fixed on his face as he stared at my body, studying his reaction.

Toby's eyes were filled with burning-hot lust, more than I'd ever seen them before. His fingers traced up my stomach slowly. Scorches of heat sped up my thighs at his touch, and my heart raced.

Toby pressed his lips to my bare stomach with a gasp, licking my skin. I let out a groan. He trailed his lips down to my lower navel, teasing the lace of my panties.

He sucked on my navel, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. When Toby kissed inside my underwear, the sexy mood sizzled. I squeezed my thighs against his hips and moaned, pulling him closer to me.

Suddenly, he pulled away, his expression bewildered.

"We can't," Toby gasped.

He kissed my neck before sitting back up, breathing hard. I pulled my dress back down over my thighs, snapping back to reality.

I watched as he moved to stand at the kitchen island, his shoulders hunched over in tension, the tendons in his arms rippling with unwilling restraint. I stared at his back, afraid that I had gone too far. The intensity of my own uncontrolled hormones shocked me.

I went to the table and hugged him from behind, resting my cheek against his back. The feeling of his erratic heartbeat soothed me. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

Toby touched my hands, stroking them affectionately with his fingers. "I'm not." He lifted up one of my hands to his lips, pressing a long, lingering kiss there.

He turned around and held my face in between his hands, gazing at me gently. The shame burned into me.

My chin wobbled. "I just want you so much."

"Hey," Toby said, brushing away the tears that had spilled down my cheeks. "It's okay." He pulled me into him and held me tight.

I locked my arms around his waist, burying my face into his neck as he comforted me.

Which was exactly what I needed right then.

Late that afternoon, I pushed through the doors of the DiLaurentis Commercial Properties office, a colonial-style building that had been turned into a real estate company by Jason's father, Kenneth DiLaurentis. It was built of redbrick and it only had one-story-high green pillars. Most of the building's historical interior details had been torn down to make way for the meeting rooms and Mr. DiLaurentis' office.

I walked down the cherry wood hall and stopped at one of the French doors of the office, where Jason was possibly working. He hadn't returned any of my calls after I'd left three voicemails for him early that morning. All I wanted to do was ask him about who Charles was and fill in the possible missing puzzle pieces to this mystery that was A. But how was I supposed to do that if he wouldn't even talk to me? The only place I could think of where Jason could be was his family's real estate business.

So maybe I was disobeying Alison's wishes to stay away from our brother, but what other choice did I have? I needed answers, especially with everything that was going on with A.

I turned the door's handle and stepped inside. The room was spacious and white, with lots of light streaming in from the windows. Various frames of paintings hung from the stark walls and a model home of one of the real estate developments sat on a mahogany Chippendale desk table. Black leather chairs surrounded a large oak-wood desk that held a phone, a computer, a stack of manila folders, and a stained glass desk lamp.

Jason stood over the desk in a navy blue button-down shirt and dark pants, eyeing me warily. His golden blonde locks looked extra buttery in the light. "Spencer, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to just drop by, but I needed to talk to you," I said. "I left messages."

"I was busy," Jason said curtly, and wagged his eyebrows at me in annoyance. He carried one of the labeled boxes to the far side of the room with all the rest. "You probably heard, my dad is trying to decide how many people he can sue at one time."

I smiled faintly, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him.

"It's the kinda challenge he enjoys," Jason continued without humor. He turned his back to me and started unpacking the boxes.

"I wanted to talk to you about him," I said carefully, testing to see what he'd say. "About your family." I paused. "Our family."

"Well, I don't think I've ever heard you refer to it as our family." I heard a hint of amusement in his voice.

I folded my arms across my chest in defiance. "Well, things change. When we were down there in that place, we saw a name."

Jason's back turned rigid, and then he slowly turned around to face me.

"We found it or Andrew wanted us to find it," I went on. "But either way, we have a name now. And we don't know what it means."

"What name?" Jason asked.

"Charles DiLaurentis." I looked at him meaningfully, probing my eyes into his. Jason swallowed deeply.

"We haven't gone to the police yet," I assured him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Cause we wanna know what it meant before we gave it to them." I stared at him seriously. "And Ali asked your dad, but he said there was no such person."

"I don't know any Charles DiLaurentis either," Jason replied.

"Not even a cousin somewhere?" I pushed.

"Not on our side of the family." He looked at me, understanding. "Look, Andrew must have done it just to mess with Ali."

As I wracked my brain for something to say, my iPhone beeped. I glanced down at my phone in my hands and looked at the screen. It was a text message from Hanna. It read, _S.O.S. WE'RE AT SULLIVAN'S OFFICE. GET HERE!_

"Um…I have to go," I looked up at Jason and unwillingly turned for the door. "See you later."

But as my hand rested on the doorknob, Jason mumbled, "Charles DiLaurentis?"

I stopped in my tracks and my heart sped up. "You do know the name."

He quickly composed himself. "Uh, no, not really. It's a coincidence."

I stepped towards him. "What is?"

"Charlie."

"Charlie DiLaurentis?" I repeated.

"Just Charlie," Jason said. "But my dad told you the truth."

I frowned at him. "About what?"

"Charlie doesn't exist," Jason said matter-of-factly.

My body instantly went cold. As I stared at him, a horrible thought suddenly hit me. Charles wasn't a DiLaurentis; he was Jason's old imaginary friend when he was younger. At least, that's what his father let him believe. When Mr. DiLaurentis wanted Charlie to go away, he just told Jason to forget about him. And so he did, hence Charles DiLaurentis. Mr. DiLaurentis lied: Charlie was never a figment of Jason's imagination. He was real, and now he was taking out his revenge on Kenneth against us. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that there was something else that Jason wasn't telling me.

Before I could delve into it further, my phone vibrated again, reminding me of the urgent message Hanna had sent. My body was filled with urgency on overdrive. I had to tell the others.

I hurried out the door, heading towards Main Street. Dr. Sullivan's office was only a couple blocks away from the DiLaurentis' Real Estate Company. Anne Sullivan was a therapist my mother and my friends' parents had arranged for us to see for daily therapy sessions a year after Alison DiLaurentis had been thought to be dead and to sort through our obsessive thoughts about her 'murder.'

When I finally reached the tall, brick building, my cheeks were flushed and my hair was tangled from the way over. I quickly climbed up the steps and rushed inside.

The waiting room was painted an olive-green and white daffodils lined the backs of the chairs, making it feel warm and inviting, even though I was wreaked with nerves on the inside. Aria, Hanna, and Emily, who were sitting on ivory-colored fabric chairs opposite each other, looked up when they heard me come in.

I strolled to the center of the room. "You guys, we need to talk," I said urgently.

Emily rolled her eyes. "That's why we're here."

I gave them a serious look. "No, I mean we have to talk. Jason told me who Charles DiLaurentis is."

"Wait, so he knew, but Ali didn't?" Hanna asked.

Aria stood up from her chair, confusion evident on her face. "Was Alison lying?"

"It wasn't Charles," I said. "At least not when Jason knew him. It was Charlie. They were friends when they were little."

"So Charlie grew up to be Charles?" Emily guessed.

"Charlie was Jason's imaginary friend."

"Imaginary, like Mr. Biscuit?" Hanna asked.

We each turned to look at her quizzically.

Hanna shook her head. "Long story."

"Wait, Jason told you this?" Aria asked me.

"Yes," I answered. "And then one day, Mr. DiLaurentis went to Jason and said that Charlie had to go away. And then Jason never saw Charlie again."

Aria shook her head in confusion. "Wait, wait a minute, so…if Jason's dad knew that Charlie was Jason's imaginary friend, why wouldn't he just tell Ali that when she asked him?"

"Yeah, why not?" I said, crossing my arms.

Hanna stood. "Wait, so those home movies, those were movies of Jason and Charlie?"

"There's nothing imaginary about Charles and Ali's dad knows it," Emily pointed out.

Aria nodded. "Yeah, Hanna's right. We have to tell Sullivan everything."

I pondered the thought, when suddenly Emily's cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her army jumpsuit's pocket and glanced down at it. "It's Sara. I–I gave her one of Caleb's phones."

Caleb was constantly hacking into people's phones for money, from kids at school to Rosewood High's computer system. The hacking jobs were generally high-tech, and Caleb often tried adding bonus features if it meant extra cash. When we confided in him about A, he used his technology equipment to help us instead, which sometimes entailed loaning us untraceable burner phones.

"Okay, can you please send that to voicemail?" I said in an exasperated voice.

"No, it's a face chat request." Emily's face faltered. "Wait."

Everyone moved closer around Emily and leaned over her iPhone. A video clip appeared on the screen, opening to a clear shot of Emily's bedroom. It moved slowly to a sleeping Sara on Emily's bed, who was resting peacefully on her side, her back facing us.

Hanna frowned. "If that's Sara, who's sending this?"

Then, someone wearing a black leather glove pulled out a pocketknife, focusing on the sharp point of the blade. We all let out terrified gasps at the image.

My stomach tightened. A was in Emily's house, with Sara. A had followed us to Sullivan's office.

The video ended with a message of neon-orange letters splayed across the screen.

MENTION ME AND SOMEONE DIES. YOU HAVE 30 SECONDS TO LEAVE THAT ROOM.

I didn't need to ask who it was from. A dizzying nausea floated from my head down to my toes.

Just then, the phone made a beeping noise and the video screen blinked with the same bright orange color as it counted down to thirty. I gaped at the rapidly moving numbers in alarm.

I glanced towards Dr. Sullivan's office door frantically, my heart pounding. Dr. Sullivan was inside and would be coming out any minute. My mind reeled, searching my brain for what to do. I wanted to expose Charles once and for all and put all this drama behind us forever, but if we ignored his threat, he would hurt Sara.

My knees wobbled. "We have to get out of here." I started for the exit.

Without saying anything else, Aria, Hanna, and Emily followed me into the hall and through the door.

I sniffled hallway down the street. My friends weren't carrying a baby. They would never understand what it felt like to have to keep something like this hidden from A. Charles was probably there, watching us in amusement as we raced to Sara's safety.

I wiped the tears away with the heel of my palm, hoping the other girls didn't notice. I scanned the trees for any sign of A, but every tree branch remained empty and still.

We ran for Emily's house, passing people on the way who now stared at us with pity and fear on their faces. They knew us only for what they've seen on the news: Liars or victims.

Ten minutes later, Emily turned abruptly at the corner of the street and bolted for the Fields' front door, the rest of us close behind. She pulled open the door, and we all raced up the stairs to her bedroom. Inside, the bed was neatly made, aside from Sara's sleeping form beneath the covers. Emily's cottage white quilt had been draped over the end of the bed and most of the pillows were piled against the opposite side of where Sara lay sleeping.

Emily quickly threw back the covers, only to reveal her yellow floral-print pillows that had been stuffed underneath to imitate a sleeping person.

"Where is she?" A sick feeling twisted in my gut.

"Hello."

Everyone spun around to find Sara standing in front of us. She wore a turquoise bathrobe, and her long blonde hair was wrapped in a towel. She was prettier than I'd remembered, her heart-shaped face sweet-looking and open, with big blue eyes, and a pretty pink mouth.

Emily looked at Sara with relief and rushed toward her, immediately pulling her into a comforting hug. Sara's eyes darted from Emily to the rest of us, looking puzzled from our freakish behavior.

I stood there, feeling useless. And for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to do.

After Emily left Sara in her room to change into a fresh pair of clothes, Aria, Hanna and I wandered down to the living room and settled on the Fields' living room couch and upholster wingback chair.

I paced back and forth across the room, feeling anxious. A's threat still spun around in my head. We may have escaped the Dollhouse, but A was still here, torturing us. And he could come after us again at any moment–what if Charles wanted to hurt someone else? A wasn't only our enemy, but Mona's and Ali's, too. Did that mean Jason or Toby were…next?

"Sara probably thinks we're insane," Hanna said.

I nervously fidgeted with the gold ring on my index finger that Toby had gotten for me on my eighteenth birthday, stressing about A. "Emily will explain it to her."

"Without telling her what was on the phone?" Aria asked doubtfully.

"No, it won't do her any good to scare her with that," I replied.

"If A is Charles, and Charles is Andrew, and Andrew is in jail, then who made that call?" Hanna wondered. "Who was in the room with Sara?"

Aria looked at her skeptically. "Did Mr. Biscuit ever make any threatening phone calls?"

Hanna leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "Leave Mr. Biscuit out of this."

Everyone looked up abruptly as the front door opened. Emily's mother, Pam Fields, slipped inside the house, looking like she just came back from town.

"Hi, Mrs. Fields," Aria said.

Mrs. Fields stopped when she saw all of us gathered around the living room. She looked surprised. "Oh, girls." Her eyes searched the wide room. "Where's Em?"

"She's upstairs with Sara," I told her.

"Okay. Good," she said in relief.

"Is something wrong?" Hanna asked.

"This isn't official, but…I was just at the police station visiting and…" Mrs. Fields took a deep breath. "They're gonna release Andrew Campbell."

"Release him?" Aria said in disbelief, the rage clear on her face.

"Wait, did he make bail?" I asked at the same time. My chest burned with anger.

"He doesn't have to make bail," Mrs. Fields said, "they're not charging him with anything.

"Wh-what do you mean they're not charging him?" Hanna sputtered.

"Well, I got this secondhand, but…there's no case. He has an alibi for when Mona was taken from her house. And he was having his appendix removed the weekend Sara Harvey was kidnapped."

I tensed. "So if they don't think that he did it…"

"Then that person is still out there," she finished. "And you girls need to take precautions."

My stomach dropped. If Andrew was in jail when someone made that threatening phone call to Emily, that meant he couldn't be A. Charles must have been trying to divert the police away from him–and used Andrew as a scapegoat to do it in his diabolical plan.

"When was Andrew released?" A pucker formed in between Aria's eyebrows.

"He hasn't been yet," Mrs. Fields replied. "They still have to process him and wait for his family. He should be out in a few hours."

My throat felt tight. I looked warily at Hanna,

"You girls need to check in with your parents and…let 'em know what's happening."

"Yeah, we will," I assured her, but my lips were pressed together in worry.

"Okay." Mrs. Fields turned for the stairs and disappeared out of the room.

As soon as she was out of earshot, I snapped my head towards Aria. "Why did you ask when Andrew was released?"

"Because, if he was out, he could've made that call," she explained.

"Well, he wasn't," Hanna said. "So now what?"


	7. Chapter 7

7\. Don't Look Now

Spencer

About a half hour later, Aria, Emily, and Hanna and I stood around Alison's living room. Ali sat in the ivory-colored love seat, looking at us skeptically as we finished telling her what we found out about Charles. I surveyed the others. They rested back in their high heels, watching Ali's face for her reaction. Both Aria and Hanna had their arms crossed over their chests. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my black longline boyfriend jacket. Emily wasn't doing anything, but her eyes were huge as she stared across the room at Alison.

Alison narrowed her eyes. "Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"

"Trust me, we know exactly how crazy it sounds," Hanna said.

Aria looked at Ali curiously. "Jason never told you anything about Charlie?"

"No," she replied curtly.

"He said your dad knows all about it," I tried. "Your dad was the one who told Jason that Charlie had to go away."

Ali had an unreadable expression on her face, and then her eyes flickered to the floor.

Hanna stared at Alison intensely, though her eyes were gentle. "Ali, your dad lied to you."

Ali's face crumpled, and I thought I saw a glimmer of realization flit across her features. After a moment, she steeled herself and walked over to the living room's baby grand piano, where framed photographs of Alison and her parents lined the surface. There were no photos of Jason to be found.

Ali rested her hand against a picture of Mrs. DiLaurentis and a much younger looking Alison and finally spoke. "Jason always said that something was missing from this family. I always thought that he was talking about himself…being left out of things like photo albums. But maybe he wasn't the one that was removed."

A chill went throughout the room, and icy shivers ran up my back. It lingered, giving me the sensation of someone tracing the back of my neck.

Emily paused. "Ali, do you think there could be proof of Charles DiLaurentis in this house?"

"Guys, we've been through this house with a map," I said.

"Yeah, but we weren't looking for Charlie," Aria pointed out.

"You were looing for my hiding places, not my parents," Ali added.

We all fell gravely silent. I turned to Ali. She wore a white embroidered shoulder jacket over her shirt and had an ominous expression on her face.

After spending what felt like an eternity scouring and tearing through every possible nook and cranny in the house that we could find, the only thing we could find was a bottle of Tequila tucked away inside a small, secret liquor cabinet small built into the wall, leaving us feeling even more hopelessly clueless about Charles than before. I started to wonder if there was any evidence of a Charles DiLaurentis in this house, if Mr. DiLaurentis hadn't burned every last shred of him.

"There's nothing in here either." Ali stepped through the archway from the hall. "Come with me."

As I followed Ali outside to the front porch, I looked over and saw Hanna talking on her cell phone and Emily was looking underneath the piano for evidence of Charles' existence.

Ali pushed open the front door. "If we don't find anything here, we'll look in the garden." She picked up two trowels from the house's flowerbeds and handed one to me. "Starting with the azaleas."

I glanced at the stone planter box of purple azalea plants. Ali dug her trowel into the dirt soil and immediately started digging under the roots.

I looked at her, baffled. "Really?"

"Where do you hide things, Spence?" she challenged. "Under that mattress, in that big barn of yours?" She gave me a teasing smile.

I sighed. "No, I have a…loose floorboard in my closet."

"That's always good," Ali replied.

"Yeah," I said awkwardly.

As we shoveled through handfuls of earthy soil, Alison turned to me. "Toby is not gonna like this."

I frowned at her. "Why not?"

She didn't answer right away. "He thought you were safe so he could go back to hating me."

"He doesn't hate you," I said, but I averted my gaze. Ali looked at me unconvinced, seeing through my bluff.

"Have you met his new partner?" she asked suddenly. She had moved around me to start on another pot of soil.

"Lorenzo?" I looked up to meet her eyes. "No, not yet."

"He's nice," Ali added.

"Yeah, Toby likes him," I agreed.

Ali nodded. "Toby must have…told him all about me. Just as well."

I stared at her. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Has Toby talked to Lorenzo about me?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know." I looked at Ali more closely. Her forehead was puckered and she was looking at me with interest. It suddenly hit me: Ali liked Lorenzo. I could see it all over her face now.

"Where did you meet him?" I asked with a smile.

"Lorenzo?"

"Hmm," I answered.

"Toby was with him," Ali said, avoiding my eyes. "And then I saw him again…at church."

I stopped abruptly and turned to her. I was so surprised, I stared at her with wide eyes. Before I could say anything, Alison said, "Don't laugh."

"I'm not laughing," I insisted. "I'm just…I'm a little bit surprised."

"It's pointless, right? Me with somebody like that. I mean, that could never go anywhere." Then her eyes flickered back to mine. "Could it?"

I'd never seen Alison so flustered, so demure and sincerely vulnerable in all the years that I'd known her. I didn't know what to say. Truthfully, I thought Ali would be great with someone like Lorenzo–except that I had never met him, and he was Toby's partner on the police force.

"Where would you want it to go?" I finally asked her.

Ali didn't respond. She plunged her hand deeper into the pot of soil with her trowel.

"You know, Ali, there's a version of this where we could've all been killed," I said. "But we weren't. So it's like a second chance, and I don't know anybody who couldn't use one of those. As long as we don't waste it."

Ali stared off into the darkness at something in the trees that I couldn't see. I pushed my trowel deeper into the soil, pondering everything Alison had said. I wasn't exactly someone to judge for getting involved with a police officer, much less someone who was older than I was. If I had been reserved for those sorts of things, Toby and I may have never fallen in love in the first place.

Soon, Alison and I fell into our own worlds in the silence of the night. I listened to the soothing sound of the wind blowing softly through the trees and gazed up at the sky, which had been plunged into different shades of dark blue. The stars above glittered like rare jewels, and I wondered if Toby was out there thinking the same thing.

"Guys, you need to come look at this."

Ali and I both turned when we saw Aria poke her head out the door. She was holding something square and glossy tightly in her hands, and wore an anxious expression on her face. My heart pounded.

"Aria?" I whispered.

As I stepped closer to her, I noticed it was a photograph in her hand. There was something very familiar about it. Mrs. DiLaurentis and two blonde little boys stood close together, her arm around their shoulders. In her free arm was a small newborn wrapped in a soft yellow blanket and matching hat. By the looks of the crates of red and green apples behind them and a faded-red painted building beyond that, I was sure that this picture had to have been taken at the Campbell Apple picking farm. There was a crease in the center of the photo, where it looked like it had been folded up.

Ali reached for the photo, her face draining of color. "Where did you find this?" She sounded numb.

"Downstairs in the sewing room," Aria answered. "It was buried at the bottom of a button jar."

I stared at the photo, immediately identifying the connection. It was from the home video at the Dollhouse.

"Where's Hanna and Emily?" I asked Aria.

"They're inside the house. They're still looking."

"Come on. We have to tell them." I pulled them into the living room. Emily was in the middle of searching behind some books on one of the bookshelves, and Hanna was busy texting someone on her phone, presumably her mom. Hanna looked up as Aria, Alison, and I approached. "We need to talk," I said. "Aria found something."

We piled onto the couch and around the chairs in the living room. Without a word, Alison showed everyone the photograph of Mrs. DiLaurentis and the two boys.

"That's the same place in the home movie," I said. "The one in the Dollhouse."

"So one of those boys is Jason," Hanna guessed.

"And the other one's Charlie," Aria added.

"The boy who never was," Emily murmured.

Alison's face paled. "You're smart, Aria. I never would have thought to look in the button jar." She stared at the photo clutched in between her hands, still in shock from it all.

"Yeah, well, it's where I used to hide my candy money from Mike," Aria said quietly. Mike Montgomery was Aria's little brother. He'd grown up quite a bit over the last three years and had even dated Mona before she disappeared.

Alison looked thoughtful for a minute as her eyes flickered back down to the photo. "My dad's gonna be home soon. You should probably go."

"Maybe we shouldn't leave you alone right now," Hanna offered.

"No, it'll be okay. I'll find out what all this means and then I'll call you." I could see that she was trying her hardest to stay strong, though I caught a glimpse of fear and uncertainty on her face.

After a moment I said, "Let's go."

The girls stood and we all filed down the hall. I sneaked a glance over my shoulder at Alison one last time before heading out. She looked so alone and helpless, and all I wanted to do was go to her. But I also knew that her dad would never talk about Charles with us there. Once outside on the sidewalk pavement, the four of us walked towards Bridgewater Terrace.

"Someone should have stayed with her," Emily said abruptly after a few minutes. Emily had always been super protective of Ali, so of course she wanted to make sure Alison was okay.

"She has to do this alone," I said, looking at her. "Her dad wasn't gonna say anything in front of us."

When we passed the church, all of us stopped dead in our tracks. Up ahead, Andrew Campbell was walking down the steps of the Rosewood courthouse a few feet away from us, carrying a large envelope package of his belongings. His dark blond hair was combed back, and his denim-hoodie jacket made him look tough. It felt as if someone had punched a hole into my gut, leaving me breathless. My knees trembled.

"Oh, God," Aria whispered.

"I guess they processed him," Hanna said flatly.

Aria swallowed and boldly started towards Andrew. _No._ I started to panic. "Aria, maybe you shouldn't," I warned.

But she ignored me, marching right up to him. Hanna and Emily exchanged a worried glance, and we quickly followed Aria across the street.

"Andrew," Aria called.

"Stay away from me," Andrew mumbled.

"Are your parents inside?" she went on.

"They called them." His voice was clipped. "I wasn't staying in there to wait."

Aria reached for him. "Look, I'm really glad you're out." Her eyes were pleading.

Andrew looked at her incredulously. "Really? That's not what I heard."

"Okay, but you have to understand–"

"No, you have to understand," he yelled. "Do you know where I was, the three weeks they were trying to find me? Looking for you."

An uncomfortable feeling twisted my stomach. Suddenly, I saw a police car pull up to the courthouse and Toby stepped out. I breathed a sigh of relief. He noticed me standing close by and narrowed his eyes on Andrew, focusing on him like a bullseye target.

The corners of Aria's eyes turned down guiltily. I heard the car door of Toby's police cruise slam shut and I drew in a breath. My legs ached with the desperate need to run into his arms.

"I was gonna be the hero," he continued. "Instead I get arrested, thrown in jail. They investigate my parents, tear up my uncle's farm because I wanted to help you. Because I didn't believe what people said about you and your friends." Andrew was so angry he was shaking.

"Just let me explain–" Aria tried.

"Don't," he snapped. "Just don't. We graduate in three weeks. All you have to do is stay out of my way."

Andrew pushed past us angrily in the direction of his house, a few blocks away.

Hanna swiveled around to face him. "You'll graduate…that doesn't mean we will."

"Oh, you'll graduate. The school wants you gone as much as the rest of us." He looked from one girl to the other, his eyes wide with fury. "You'll graduate with honors."

"Andrew, you need a lift?" I glanced toward the end of the street. Toby stood in front of us now, his eyes kind and sincere. Standing a foot away from him was a guy with chocolate-colored skin and brown eyes, who I assumed to be Lorenzo, clad in the same dark navy Rosewood police uniform. His curly, brownish-black hair was cropped, and his hands rested at his belt.

"Like I'm getting in a car with you two," Andrew said bitterly. "No thank you. Other towns have nice toxic dumps. Rosewood has you."

And then he turned on his heel swiftly without another look at us. Aria started after him, but then stopped, as if realizing it was useless.

"So I guess you heard," Toby said.

Emily sighed. "We heard."

"We're just gonna go check in, then we can drive you home."

"Thanks." Hanna had her arms crossed over her chest tightly.

I rushed to catch up with Toby and Lorenzo. "Hey, are you Lorenzo?"

The guy turned and moved towards me. "Yeah, I'm Lorenzo." I could already see the muscles in Toby's shoulders tensing in irritation.

I extended my hand to him. "I'm Spencer."

"I figured that's who you were," he smiled.

I laughed, feeling a blush creeping into my cheeks. Then I gestured to Aria, Hanna, and Emily behind me with my hand. "Uh, this is Aria, Emily and Hanna. We're Alison's friends."

"Nice to meet you," Lorenzo said politely.

"You, too."

Toby rolled his eyes. "Come on."

Lorenzo gave me a parting smile before following Toby. As Toby tramped across the grass toward the police station, he glanced over his shoulder to glare at me, looking annoyed. I gave him an alluring smile in response, enjoying flirting with him so playfully.

When I turned around, I noticed the guilt and torment mixed into Aria's expression.

"Andrew's not going to blame us forever," I assured her.

Aria met my eyes. "Why not? It's my fault."

"He was set up."

"It wasn't just Andrew," she whispered. "We all were."

"Hmm," Emily agreed. "Worse than ever."

"People actually know what happened, but they don't believe us, do they?" Hanna asked.

"Now we're more cut off than ever," Aria said.

The hideous emptiness that I thought had long since healed reappeared, and I wanted to see Toby. Over time, I'd developed a numbness to the pain, but I learned how to survive it.

A dreadful feeling swelled in my stomach as stray, singular thought crossed my mind. "That's what Charles really wanted to do to us in that Dollhouse…make us feel alone forever. Isolated." My eyes glistened with tears as I recalled the memory of that place. We were finally talking about it, but things didn't feel normal again. It felt the opposite. Just the idea of being away from Toby forever tore me in half.

"When I was in that place," Hanna said after a pause, "Charlie, Charles, whoever it was, he made me play a game…with switches."

I looked over at Emily and Aria. There was an intrigued expression on Aria's face. Emily had her arms wrapped tightly around herself and her eyes were drawn down. I lowered my eyes and swallowed. The fear I'd been feeling slowly creeped back inside my body.

"About hurting people," Hanna went on.

Aria's expression had morphed into a mask of shock. "I thought that I was the only one. But I…I was never shocked." She looked around at us. "Were any of you ever shocked?"

Emily shook her head. "No."

And just like that, the pain returned as I was taken back to that place, as if I was still in that room. The cold sensation of shock iced my skin, and then seared me with pain. It held me there to the ground as my mind remembered those three weeks trapped in the Dollhouse; the gaping wound that Charles created, the tight, burning stretch across my wrists as the restraints pulled against my hands, the dryness in my throat as more screams escaped, the chills on the back of my neck when the overhead speaker told me I had to choose…

"He tricked us," Hanna said in disbelief.

My throat felt tight. "The point was that we thought we hurt each other. That was what Charles really wanted us to know. That there was a point that we would do it." I swallowed. "Any of us. All of us."

We stared at one another with wide, stunned eyes. I wrapped my coat around my body, suddenly freezing.

Ever since the police had deemed Sara Harvey one of A's captives in the Dollhouse, I couldn't stop thinking about how Charles had done it. I'd envisioned Charlie hitting Mona in the head from behind just like he'd done to Ali when she went missing, grabbed her, and locked her into that room.

A was _still_ out there. And according to Mrs. Fields, so was Mona and Sara's kidnapper. Charles could be the real culprit. That meant he could be with us _right now_.

By the time I reached my family's long, private driveway that night, I walked up to the back door of my house, hoping my mother wasn't home to interrogate me with more questions of my whereabouts. Ever since my abduction, she'd been on my case 24/7 like a parole officer. But to my utter disappointment, I noticed my mother's silver Mercedes next to the gate. The house was dark, except for one light in the window.

I stepped through the kitchen to find her sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for me. She set down the magazine she'd been reading on the coffee table when she heard me enter.

"I called you," my mom said, standing up. She was wearing a red silk blouse tucked into her black wool pencil skirt.

I clomped into the living room. "Toby gave me a ride home in the back of his police car, okay? All safe and sound."

She let out an exasperated breath. "Andrew Campbell's been released. Charges dropped."

"I know."

"The police patrols will be coming back for protection," Mrs. Hastings informed me. "But I…I don't want you going anywhere without me knowing where you are."

 _Is that why you took away my sleeping pills?_ I thought angrily.

I drew my eyes away and turned for the stairs. "I think I'm gonna try to sleep on my own tonight."

"Apparently, when they questioned Andrew, he said a few things about you and the other girls," she said as I passed, making me freeze on the stairway steps. "How you all tricked him into helping you."

"I bet the police loved that story," I said sarcastically.

"Is it true?" my mom asked.

I stared at her for a long time, astonished that she could ask me that. My mother's eyes were narrowed and her mouth was pressed together in a tight, suspicious line. She didn't believe me.

"It's made up of facts," I finally answered. "That doesn't make it true." I turned away from her sharply.

"How was it?" she retorted. "Going back to school?"

"Don't do that." More tears filled my eyes.

"Don't do what?" Mrs. Hastings asked innocently.

I slowly turned to her. "Don't try to catch me in a lie, it's humiliating."

Mrs. Hastings moved to the stairway. "I am trying to keep you safe. If it wasn't Andrew, then that means whoever did this to you is still out there, is still a threat." She sighed heavily. "God, I want to put an end to this whole thing once and for all."

I stepped toward her, staring at her forcefully. "I don't think you wanna put an end to this so much as you wish it never happened. Well, it did happen. It happened to me, and it happened to my friends and that is not something that gets forgotten. Ever."

I'd been trapped down in that Dollhouse for so long that I'd forgotten what real happiness felt like. I'd broken my own personal rules tonight. Instead of shielding myself from the painful memories, I'd barreled toward it. When I was in that place, the darkness had won, shoving and dragging me down until I suffocated. It locked me inside the gloom like invisible iron bars around me. The worst part was reliving the same torment every day, knowing that nothing changed. And then it gnawed at you, making you feel completely and utterly alone, forgotten. Just like Charles wanted.

The only thing that kept me going was getting back to Toby, of telling myself that if I survived, then I would be okay. But as much as I struggled not to think of all the horrible things that had happened to me there, I didn't try to forget because I knew it was hopeless.

"You know, when I was down there," I continued, "I just…I kept thinking if we could just make it out, if we could just survive, and get out and come back home then everything was gonna be alright. And then we did. We're back. And I don't see a happy ending coming anytime soon. I really wish I did."

Then, without a backward glance, I climbed up the steps to my bedroom. "Goodnight, mom."

I worried late into the night, when the lack of sleep broke through my walls of defenses–that the barrier I'd created to protect myself from the awful memories would crumble and I'd be left vulnerable once again. That they would slip into my mind and take over, and I would remember the precise moment when I had succumbed to the numb, hollow emptiness.

I moved to stare dejectedly out my bedroom window at the sheet of blackness, allowing a few more stray tears to escape. Aside from a couple police cars that were parked in our driveway, it was empty and dark outside. The cops had pulled up an hour ago to watch the house for any threats now that Andrew had been released from jail.

I checked the lock on my window again for the third time that night, even though they were shut tight and secured. It seemed silly to lock all the doors and the windows. What difference would that make to Charles? If he was able to break into Emily's room, he could sneak in anywhere he desired. And he if came here, looking for me…

I shivered. Unable to take it anymore, I swiftly walked over to my bedside table and took out my bottle of prenatal vitamins. I swallowed two of the pills dry and lay down on my bed. My life seemed dark and meaningless at the moment, so I knew getting any sleep tonight was hopeless.

But the situation was much worse than that. Because this wasn't the first night that Charles had been in one of our bedrooms. Before my friends and I had been abducted, he took things out of our rooms for his so-called Dollhouse. And Toby was one of the police officers protecting us; he was the heart of the target that was aimed at me. Toby was my weakness, and Charles knew that.

There was nothing stopping Charles from coming here tonight and hurting him, and not even the police could help me. There was nowhere I could hide, no one who could help me.

Then something caught the corner of my eye. A car's headlight's danced along the length of my bedroom wall, and I could hear the crunch of gravel from outside.

My eyes widened with fright. Clouded with exhaustion, I slowly crawled out of bed and wandered over to the window.

The headlights faded. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips when I realized who it was. Toby stepped out of his cop car, looking gorgeous in his police uniform. He was wearing his heavy down Rosewood PD jacket and there was a gun in his holster. His hair was combed back, showing off his clean and open face.

I tiptoed out my bedroom door, checking to make sure my mom had gone to bed. When I was sure the house was quiet and still, I sprinted out the door to the curb, where Toby's cruiser was comfortably parked. He was only a few feet down the driveway when I ran to him. He enveloped me into his jacket and wrapped his arms around me for comfort.

"I want you to stay with me tonight," I murmured. "I'm scared."

Toby rubbed my back. "I am here."

"You know what I mean."

He nuzzled my neck affectionately. "I love you. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Suddenly, hot tears that I couldn't explain stung my eyes. Toby tightened his arms around me. "What's wrong?"

I pressed my face into the safety of his chest. "I don't want you watching me from outside my window, I want you with me." Then, without any control of my own, I started to sob.

Toby brushed his lips along my earlobe, and my heart fluttered. "I love you. If you're worried I'm going to let you sleep alone tonight, don't be. You're my only reason to stay."

Not for the first time, I heard the love and affection in his voice, but somehow it was still able to make my heart melt in ways that I didn't think was possible. Toby kissed my ear, then moved his lips down to my neck and the underside of my jaw.

I turned in his arms and pressed my hands to his face, kissing him with all my heart. His arms braced my back as he pushed me up against the car, locking me there. My body sang back to life. The blood in my veins raced, the electricity buzzing along my skin from the feeling of his hands on me.

Toby hardened his lips against mine. My breath came out in a gasp against his lips as I tangled my fingers through his hair wildly, needing more of him. He slid his hand up my outer thigh, pulling my leg up to his hip. After several long minutes of kissing, we pulled away, breathing hard.

Then Toby kissed my forehead. "I'll meet you in your room, okay?"

"Okay," I smiled.

As I headed to the door, I had to peek behind me to make sure he was still there. In the night, it was darker and scarier somehow, but with Toby watching over me, I no longer felt afraid.

I slipped back inside the house and headed silently upstairs to my room. I left the door open a crack for Toby, and then crossed to the bathroom to get changed for bed. I undid the buttons at the front of my dress and slithered it off past my thighs, leaving me naked except for my bra and panties.

I'd been fantasizing this moment all day. I'd imagined how it would happen a thousand ways in my head, but none of them came close to the reality. I wanted Toby to touch me again so badly, to feel his hands all over me. I closed my eyes, picturing the way his fingers would stroke my inner thigh and reach my underwear…

I wanted it so much that it brought tears to my eyes. I couldn't stop thinking about it. By the time I came out, Toby was already sitting on the bed waiting for me. He'd discarded his police jacket onto the red leather chaise, and now only wore his dark navy police shirt and pants.

I stood seductively in the bathroom doorframe, wearing the same black lace bra and matching panties that I'd worn from our hot-and-heavy ten minutes in heaven on the couch earlier that afternoon. They cut below my hips, showing part of my buttcheeks. My bra fit snuggly against my chest, pushing up my breasts and exposing the better half of them.

Toby stared at me with wide eyes as he slowly rose to his feet, turned on. "Do you want to talk about what happened today?" he asked nervously.

I held his steady gaze. "I don't want to talk right now," I confessed quietly.

I moved over to him, lightheaded from what I was about to do. Curiosity and desire trembled through my limbs.

I started to unbutton his shirt, but Toby's hands gently grasped my wrists for the second time that day. "Spence."

"I want you to make love to me," I whispered.

His eyes were filled with longing and desire, but he pushed me away slightly, resisting the temptation.

"Please," I begged. "I'm aching for you." To my own surprise, tears blurred my eyes. I was crying without realizing it.

"Spencer," Toby whispered. He reached out to stroke his thumb across my cheek. "I love you. I don't want to make love to you this way. You're scared and feeling vulnerable right now."

"I need you," I wept. "I love you." I broke out into a sob, the bizarre tears gushing down my face.

Toby pressed his forehead to mine. "I need you, too."

I couldn't control the senseless tears that overflowed from my eyes, gripped by the aching need to be with him. I wanted so badly for Toby to touch me. An irresistible electricity drew me closer to him, luring me in like a magnet.

I needed to know what it felt to be with Toby again. I wanted to memorize his face, his touch, his scent, how he tasted against my tongue, even the feeling of him so solidly inside me.

I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes as I traced the planes of his face with my fingers, softly exploring his beautiful features. The depth of his sweet blue eyes, the strong lines of his collarbone, the dimple in his chin, the shape of his full lips. He was flawed, and I loved him even more for it. Toby closed his eyes underneath my touch, barely moving. "Spencer," he repeated, his voice strained with concern.

"Toby, please."

Toby stared at me, his eyes anguished with worry at the pain in my voice. I stroked his hair, loving the way it felt through my fingers. I leaned in and locked my mouth with his feverishly. It was more than just desire–it was a need, painfully longing for him.

His mouth opened under mine, his tongue soft as velvet. He wrapped his arms around me securely, his tightly reigned control shuddering through his body into mine. I bit his bottom lip roughly and moaned.

He kissed me harder, deepening the kiss. I inhaled his wonderful and familiar scent, of leather, sandalwood, and soap. The hot deliciousness of being with him lit me up, and the heat of it consumed me like a raging fire. It was as frightening as it was familiar. It felt right.

Toby tore off my bra and let it fall to the floor. My lips parted in a soft gasp and I ripped off his shirt and pants, and then dove for his boxers. I sank into him, and he backed us up against the bed until he was on top of me. I slid my hands up his torso, feeling every ripple of his muscles.

We rolled around in the sheets, our limbs entangled, with only my panties standing in the way of us being together. My legs shook intensely as Toby slowly pulled them off. I felt so bare and naked in front of him. He could get inside me any moment now; the anticipation thrilled me.

Toby spread apart my bare legs and pressed a kiss to my inner thighs, making me shiver against the pillows. Then his arms braced my shoulder blades, getting ready to make love to me. He rolled his shoulders back, bunching up together all his strength.

He dipped low below my navel and bent my legs far apart at his hips, then ran his tongue along the length of my navel up to my stomach. I moaned desperately, quivering with desire. It felt heavenly.

Toby sucked on my bottom lip, moving his tongue gently into my mouth. I kissed him hard and tugged at his hair. He groaned and his lips turned urgent, more aggressive.

When Toby finally moved inside of me, it felt like the sweetest ecstasy I'd been waiting so long for. He felt so strong and firm thrusting against me. I let out long, loud moans of release as he continued to satisfy me. He moved his member deep in me in response, sliding it gently into my darkest parts. All at once, I was exploding with several different emotions as I felt him fill me up. He made me feel so full, so satisfied.

When Toby was fully inside, he started pushing and jerking into me, heaving his body gently against mine. I clawed at his back and yelped. It felt so good to have him inside me.

Toby paused over me, concern etched on his face. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," I gasped. "Just keep doing that. Please don't stop."

He smiled and continued to move against me. I reached my hands up to his chest, whimpering with need. In that instant, Toby grinded me into the bed. I threw my legs around his back and gasped wildly, squeezing tightly. His body grinding into me was pleasuring against my skin.

We each took turns on top, rolling around in the sheets that were threatening to slip off, sweating intensely. Our lips parted in heavy, loud moans as Toby moved languidly against me, slowing down until I caught up to his movements, teaching me. Toby waited until he took me there, and then finally, the sheets were soaked with our sweat.

I straddled him next, bending my knees at his delicious, muscular hips. I licked my lips in anticipation. The sheets were discarded now, with just me naked and on top of him. Toby reached up to stroke my breasts, making me groan. He was so sensual and sexy.

Toby folded his mouth over the side of my breast and sucked, slowly working his way to the other one. My lips parted in more deep, satisfied groans. When he was done, I pressed my hands against his sweaty chest, and then I was thrusting against him. I quickened my pace, panting heavily in excitement.

And then Toby flipped us over and he was on top. I slid my hands down to his butt and squeezed gently as he moved swiftly on top of me. The sheets had fallen off the bed in a haphazard heap on the floor with the comforter, and now it was just the two of us making love on the mattress.

He molded his mouth to mine, breathing hard. I relished in the taste of his lips, of his tongue rolling across mine. We were connected, mouth to mouth, heart to heart.

Toby rubbed his feet against my legs, groaning fiercely. The sound made my nipples harden, and I dug my nails into his cheeks. They were so muscular and firm, it made me tremble beneath him. I leaned into him and he rolled back onto his side, embracing my right hip with his, penetrating me deeply. The pleasure overwhelmed all of my senses.

I snaked my leg around him, touching my shin to his buttcheeks. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his mouth back onto mine. Toby broke the kiss to brush his lips along the length of my arms.

I sighed with pleasure. He felt so good, I didn't ever want this night to end.

I woke up hours later cradled against Toby's chest, his arms wrapped around me in a loving embrace. The covers were draped over us again, though our warm bodies entangled together were keeping each other warm. My eyes fluttered open, gazing at his sleeping face. He looked so sweet and gloriously handsome. His perfectly sculpted, muscular chest collapsed with each breath. His eyes were closed peacefully, and his lips trembled slightly as he dreamed.

I stayed curled up, unwilling to take my eyes off him. Toby began to snore softly, making my heart flutter. I didn't think it was possible to love him any more than I already did.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his softly, kissing him awake. When I pulled away, his gorgeous blue eyes were open. They were a deeper blue now, like the rarest sparkling sapphire gems.

A smile turned up at the corners of his lips. "Hey."

"Hi." I snuggled into his chest.

Toby nuzzled my hair, kissing my temple. I sighed when he started tracing my naked back, drawing big, soothing circles onto my skin.

"I'm sorry for making you feel unwanted," he murmured.

I stroked his chest lovingly. "No, you've been perfect. I know you just want what's best for me."

Toby brushed his lips along my forehead, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

"You've been so wonderful to me and the baby," I continued. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you." I reached below our sheet to my stomach, feeling the bulge. Over the last few weeks, I'd grown slightly bigger.

Toby touched his hand over mine against my baby bump. "I love our baby so much."

Then he rolled me gently beneath the covers, rubbing his body against mine. Our bodies grinded together in a heated climax. I moaned and locked my arms around his neck, and he kissed my mouth, his lips grazing my own.

Suddenly, my iPhone vibrated on the bedside table next to us. I reluctantly untangled myself from his arms and leaned over to pick it up.

Toby pressed kisses deeply against my back as I checked my phone, moving lower and lower below my waist.

I looked at my main text message window. It was a text from Aria.

Mr. DiLaurentis told Ali about Charles. We're coming over to your house now.

My heart dropped in disappointment. If I had any choice in the matter, I'd stay in Toby's arms all night. But getting answers about who Charles was had been our only plan, Toby would have to leave now to go back his police car if I wanted to find out what Mr. DiLaurentis told Ali. _Okay, just give me a minute,_ I texted back.

"It's Aria," I gasped.

"Voicemail," Toby breathed. Before I could respond, he smashed his mouth to mine and pressed me against the mattress.

When I reached the front door later that night, I felt frantic and my heart thudded unsteadily. Toby and I had hastily gotten dressed after my phone lit up with several more urgent text messages from my friends, demanding where I was. Then we saw Aria, Hanna, Emily, and Alison walking up my family's private driveway–the same driveway that Toby was supposed to be patrolling. I'd been so distracted by our lovemaking that I hadn't heard them approach the house.

As he kissed me goodbye, my heart wilted a little. A hot and cold sensation slithered along my skin. Being away from Toby after what we'd just done in my bedroom felt excruciatingly painful. It was as if a physical part of my being had been ripped out of me.

I smoothed my hair before pulling open the door, worried the girls would notice I had sex hair or that my dress was slightly disheveled from having to get changed so quickly. Hanna stood next to Ali on the front porch with grave expressions on both their faces. Emily and Aria were walking up the front path. Something told me it wasn't good news.

"Hey," I started nervously. My face was flushed.

Hanna pushed around Ali and walked into my house. "We need to talk," she said. Ali, Emily, and Aria followed, and the girls ascended the stairs to my bedroom. We stood around Alison as she sank onto the floral-fabric bed bench that sat at the foot of my bed, looking shaken. She drew in a long, shaky breath.

"So what'd your dad say when you showed him the photo?" Hanna finally asked, referring to the photograph we'd found of Jason, and someone who we presumed to be Charlie, just hours before. Aria and Emily looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and urgency.

"Did he admit Charles was the boy next to Jason?" Aria asked immediately after.

I snuck a look at Ali, noting her face wore a mask of shock and her cheeks were stained with dried tears.

"Guys," I said gently, "give her a minute."

Alison slumped back on the chair, her hands in her lap. After a few long seconds, she finally looked at us. "Charles is my brother," she blurted.

Confusion and bewilderment flashed across Aria and Hanna's faces as we all exchanged worried looks.

"Then why hasn't he been living with your family this whole time?" Emily asked.

Ali's eyes were glassy. She seemed distracted, as if Emily's words hadn't registered. "Because my parents had Charles admitted into Radley. And…we moved here to Rosewood after he was locked away. My dad said that he and my mom tried helping him, but nothing else worked. No one could figure out what was wrong with him." She looked at Aria, Emily, Hanna and I. "He was too dangerous to even stay in the same house with us."

There was a long pause. My mouth fell open, and all the blood drained away from my face. The world had tipped upside down.

"I'm so sorry, Ali," Emily finally said, sitting next to Alison.

"Oh, God," Aria echoed.

I walked to the center of the room, my mind spinning. "All roads lead back to Radley."

Aria frowned, confused. "I don't get it. Why wouldn't your parents tell you about him? Why keep him a secret?"  
Another long pause followed. A pucker formed in between Alison's eyebrows, a tortured look on her face. "Charles was born fifteen months before Jason. My dad said that he wanted Charles to get help from Radley. Only, things got worse. But my dad kept it a secret anyway–he said that he wanted me and Jason to have a normal childhood. Charles was gone. But…he also said that Charles couldn't have been the one responsible for what happened to you guys in the Dollhouse."

"How is your father so sure?" Hanna asked skeptically.

"Because Charles is dead," Ali answered.

I stared at her, feeling the rest of what she had said sink in. What was Ali saying?

"He killed himself when he was sixteen," she went on. "He never left Radley.

"How did he do it?" I asked, feeling my knees go weak.

"He took pills." Ali seemed distant, staring off someplace else.

"Where did they bury him?" Emily asked Ali.

"My dad was out of the country when it happened," she answered. "So my mom had him cremated."

"He's lying," Hanna said abruptly.

We all turned to her. "How can you be so sure?" Aria asked her.

"No body, no grave, no proof," Hanna replied, like it was the most obvious fact.

"He's not lying, Hanna," Ali snapped. "He would never protect someone who's trying to hurt us." Her eyes filled with more tears.

"Two days ago, he said there was no Charles DiLaurentis in your family," Hanna reminded her. "Why believe him now?"

"He didn't wanna tell me about Charles because he was ashamed of what he did. To him, to my family."

I knew what I was hearing, but I wondered if there was some truth to what Hanna was saying. Something felt really wrong. I leaned in close to Ali, locking my eyes with hers. "Look, A responds to the name Charles and clearly that home movie means a lot to him." I glanced at Aria, Hanna, and Emily. "So that's enough reason for us to believe that your brother might still be alive. If we wanna rule him out, we just have to find proof of his death."

Emily looked at me curiously. "How do we do that?"

"We go to Radley," Hanna responded. "Someone who works there has to know what happened to Charles."

Radley was a mental institution for troubled teens, the same hospital where I had been a patient after my meltdown when I thought I'd lost Toby forever, and was now being shut down. I shivered just thinking about it.

"We can't go to Radley," Aria said.

"Why not?" Hanna asked.

"It closed down. Remember?"

Hanna looked away, jutting out her chin stubbornly.

I stared out the window, feeling anxious. Even if we could manage to sneak into Radley Sanitarium, we had no idea what dark secrets of Charles' were hidden there. I knew from experience that some secrets hurt the ones you cared about, while others defied you. And telling the truth _didn't_ set you free.

Toby

Thursday morning, I woke up to Spencer curled up against me; dark locks sticking to her face, plump lips extra pink. She was in my oversized plain white T-shirt and a pair of my blue plaid boxers that showed off her long, shapely legs. Her cheeks had turned rosy during the night, her hair wild and tangled in thick strands across my chest, caused by sleeping next to me. Seeing Spencer wearing my shirt only intensified my attraction towards her that much more.

I watched her sleep for the longest time, in complete awe that this beautiful creature was really mine, that she was lying here next to me. There were moments like these that the rest of the world faded away, when everything else made sense. It was real.

I was madly in love with Spencer Hastings.

In that moment, Spencer's gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes glazed over, and they fluttered open to look at me. My chest tightened with love.

Then she grabbed my fingers, kissing each of my knuckles. "Morning, handsome." Her voice was raspy from sleep. My heart thudded rapidly from the attractive sound of her voice.

I used the back of my hand to stroke her cheek. "I was thinking about taking a shower."

"Can I come with you?" she asked. " I just want to be with you."

I smiled at her. "Of course."

I rolled out of bed and picked Spencer up by the armpits, shifting her into my arms. She giggled into my shoulder as I carried her into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind us.

I set her down on the counter by the bathroom sink and we began to undress. I shyly watched Spencer change out of my T-shirt and underwear from the corner of my eye. She slowly slid the boxers down past her hips, and they fell to the floor. As if feeling my gaze on her, she turned in my direction. I quickly looked away, blushing.

I walked to the shower enclosure in the corner of the room to distract myself and turned the hot water on, checking to make sure it was the right temperature for Spencer.

After I slipped inside, where the hot spray seeped deep into my skin, I found my thoughts drifting to Spencer. The thought that she was naked just outside the shower stall and would soon be in here with me made my lower belly burn. There was something erotic about taking a shower with her.

I lifted my face to the spray, enjoying the warm water against my skin. Spencer soon joined me underneath the showerhead, wrapping her arms around me from behind. I turned around so I could see her lovely face and gaped at her. She looked absolutely breathtaking, with her hair wet and curled, droplets of water dripping down her bare skin. Within seconds, she was as wet as I was. My lower navel swam with desire and longing.

I drew in a sharp breath. For a long moment, I drank in the sight of Spencer, seeing the desire and excitement flickering in her eyes. Turned on, I bent my head down to kiss her.

Our kiss quickly turned more passionate while we lingered under the spray. I flicked my tongue against Spencer's and pushed her against the tiled wall. She threw her arms against the wall from the spontaneous movement and gasped.

I grabbed her butt in my hand to hold Spencer up, loving the feeling of the water rinsing our bodies and being so dangerously close to her. I heard her moan in response and she kissed me back just as fiercely. The steam from the shower began to stick to my skin as her sweet scent swirled around my face.

Spencer deepened the kiss, moving her lips aggressively against mine, and threw her legs around my waist. I moved my hands all over her back, which was soaked with water from our shower.

We broke away, breathing hard. Just the tips of our noses were touching.

"I want to have sex with you," Spencer whispered, her voice husky with longing.

My abdomen arched towards hers with desire, knowing how badly I wanted her, but also knowing that we didn't have the time.

"I want you so much." I kissed her roughly, biting her lip. "But we can't. You'll be late meeting your mom."

Spencer rested her head against my shoulder and sighed. When she squeezed her legs harder against my hips to steady herself, I felt a painful twitch of restraint in my pelvis. I wanted her so badly it ached.

I set her down, and our bodies wrapped around each other then. I pulled Spencer in close and leaned my cheek against her temple as I gently stroked her wet hair, inhaling her scent. She entwined her arms around my neck and gave me a tight squeeze, pressing her face into the crook of my neck. For a long time, we simply held each other.

I shut my eyes. There was something so sensual and intimate about holding Spencer this way, and it felt good to do so. I could feel her heart beating in her chest, felt the steady rhythm in her breaths.

When the water began to cool, we stepped out of the shower and toweled off. I pulled on a clean, white V-neck T-shirt and then slipped into my police uniform. I pulled my gun out of the top drawer of my dresser, released the trigger lock, and attached it to the gun belt on my right hip.

I felt Spencer watching me, her eyes scrutinizing me anxiously. I knew how nervous it made her to see me pack up my gun. Every day I went out in the police field was another day I risked my life, and Spencer knew it. She also knew the pressure that it weighed down on me from being handed important cases from time to time.

"You shouldn't put that in the dresser," Spencer said, looking worried. She'd changed into a slouchy olive-green cashmere cardigan and floral-print racerback jumpsuit, which I presumed was to hide the baby bump.

"I know. I'll try finding a safe," I assured her.

Spencer's forehead crinkled. "But if it goes off, it could shoot you and–"

Before she could finish the sentence, I reached for her. "Spencer, nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

Spencer sighed and wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her head into my chest. I rested my cheek on top of her head and held her close against me, entangling my fingers gently through the strands of her hair.

"You have to go now don't you?" she finally spoke.

"Yes." If I didn't leave now, I'd be late for roll call.

"I hate it when you leave," Spencer said miserably.

"Me, too." I tightened my arms around her. A sudden agony of despair washed over me at the thought of leaving her, even for just a minute.

Spencer shifted in my arms slightly to look at me, pouting.

I raised my face to hers. "I'll come back to you soon," I promised.

She touched her hands to my face. "Please be careful. I want you to be safe."

"I promise." I stroked my thumbs across her cheekbones before leaning down to kiss her. Spencer's hands lingered at my waist, unwilling to let go.

Then I grabbed my RPD police bag and left for work. As I drove down to the station in my cruiser, I couldn't stop thinking about Spencer. It made me anxious to be away from her.

I was out on the streets before nine, patrolling the neighborhood with Lorenzo for unusual activity. It was one of those typical days where nothing was happening. Not every shift was filled with endless minutes of action and excitement. Most shifts passed by the hour, driving down the same streets and passing out speeding tickets to unsafe drivers. But on some days, something did.

A call would come in from the dispatcher over the radio. Sometimes it was a break-in while other days there was a dead body found stuffed inside a cramped storage unit, or it was a sexual assault case. But every burglary, every domestic abuse, from rape and even murder, was different. And with every call, it was my responsibility to use the training and skills I'd learned from the academy to put the criminals in jail.

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie attached to the shoulder of my uniform crackled. "All officers in the vicinity of Rosewood and Maple report back to the station immediately…possible sexual assault…"

I pressed down on the button of the dispatcher and responded, "Copy that."

Lorenzo and I exchanged a look before rejoining traffic to the police station. There was more than just strain in his eyes from having to respond to this kind of case; whatever he'd heard from the dispatcher had him worried.

When we stepped out of the cruiser, the Rosewood police station was crawling with deputies and curious bystanders, attracted by the commotion going on inside and from the flashing lights of the Rosewood PD cruisers. Lorenzo and I quickly pushed past the heavy glass doors of the station.

Inside, the building was abuzz with walkie-talkies blaring as cops fluttered around us, guns poised at their holsters, ready to be pulled out at any minute and fire. It smelled like burned coffee and very old wood, possibly because, like most of the buildings here in Rosewood, it was one of the many former robber baron mansions.

Lieutenant Tanner strode into the room, a worried look on her face. Her untamable dark curls were pulled back with an elastic band, and her dark eyes were probing and assessing.

A burly, dark-haired police officer walked over to Tanner, handing her a thick manila folder filled with case files of either the victim or the criminal's records. The two of them talked in hushed tones. Whatever had happened here, it was big.

The police station's doors burst open then, and two more officers strode right up to Tanner and the cop. "I just spoke with the witness," he said in a gruff voice. "No one has seen him.

The police officer standing next to Tanner stared at him in disbelief. "You don't know where he is?"

"The team scoured the entire area, but nobody's found any trace of him. We're still looking."

I froze. _Looking?_ Lorenzo and I exchanged a worried glance before approaching them.

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Lorenzo questioned.

As soon as Tanner saw us, she looked up. "A sexual assault case was brought to our attention from the Colorado State Police."

I sucked in a deep breath. I didn't want to deal with this. Not today, not ever.

"If this happened in Colorado, then why is the Rosewood PD involved?" I finally managed to say.

"We were given specific orders to cooperate with the Colorado State Police Department after they discovered information about the suspect's whereabouts here in Rosewood," she responded. "They had him in custody until he escaped a year ago. The grounds for Jonny Raymond's arrest warrant were sent to us today."

I frowned. "Jonny Raymond is the suspect?"

Tanner nodded.

I clenched my jaw tightly, seething. Jonny was the Hastings' former tenant when he'd been living in the backyard of their barn, who also happened to develop a crush on Spencer. Whether those feelings had been genuine or not, I couldn't be sure. After I arrested Jonny for the theft and break-in at a local art gallery in Rosewood, he'd kissed her. But because Jonny stole paintings from the gallery and involved Spencer in the crime, Spencer's mother, Veronica Hastings, kicked him out of the barn and he left Rosewood for good. Until now.

"Who's the victim?" Lorenzo asked.

"Jessica Clarke, age eighteen," the cop answered. A gold pin on the breast pocket of his uniform read M. Anderson.

"A year ago, Jessica was attacked outside her home in Fairfield, Ohio," he went on. "One night, when she was wandering through the woods, Jonny Raymond grabbed her from behind and used physical force to engage in sexual contact. When she refused, he tortured her repeatedly and stabbed her with a knife six times." The officer shook his head. "It's a miracle she's even alive."

Lorenzo looked astonished. "How did she survive?"

"A sole eye witness was there at the scene of the crime as she nearly bled to death. The witness called for an ambulance, and Jessica was admitted to the hospital with two cracked ribs, a broken arm, some cuts and bruises, and severe internal bleeding. Nobody knew what happened to her or who did it until she woke up from surgery, but she wouldn't name her attacker. What convinced the judge was a statement from the witness who was there the night Jessica Clarke was assaulted, on top of Jonny's past criminal records of vandalism and theft. A European fighting knife was also found abandoned by the east river of the woods, two miles from where Jessica was attacked."

"Who was the witness?" I asked.

"CeCe Drake," Tanner answered.

CeCe Drake was Alison's older and more sophisticated friend, who had an uncanny resemblance to her. She was blonde and seductive, leggy, and had charming green eyes. CeCe gave Ali the freedom she'd never been able to do before, like access to all the cool college parties or stay late after curfew wearing glamorous short dresses. Before Ali disappeared, CeCe had trained and groomed her into the perfect Queen Bee–teaching her everything she knew about the wicked ways of the world, how to control and manipulate everyone around her to get anything she wanted. The possibilities were limitless. She'd made Ali who she was, and had even gone so far as to murder Detective Wilden and dress up as Red Coat in Ravenswood–one of A's minions who was working against the girls–to protect her. CeCe was as intelligent as she was vindictive and there was no telling the lengths she would go to keep her secrets safe.

I blinked in surprise. "CeCe saw Jonny attack her and told the police?"

She nodded. "The statement was taken the night of the assault, but after CeCe Drake escaped custody, she has since then fled the country. We're still searching for her as we speak."

Irritation rippled through me. "Where has she been for the last six months?"

"Where she has been hiding is still a mystery to the police." Tanner handed me the manila folder. "This contains all of the evidence from the sexual assault. Until Jessica Clarke is found, you and Calderon will do a thorough background check on Jonny Raymond's whereabouts. I suggest you get to it."

"Yes, ma'am."

As soon as Lieutenant Tanner walked away, Lorenzo turned to me. "I'll check up on Jessica Clarke, and you do Jonny Raymond?"

I nodded. "Sure."

I went to my desk and opened up the file to study it and the contents of the case. The most serious offenses the victim, known currently as Jess, had committed were vandalism, getting high on Speed, Ecstasy, and Heroin, and charged once for the theft of a painting. She had been held once at the Colorado Juvenile Detention Center after getting caught for spray painting the canyon walls of Rainbow Falls. She was known as being a flight risk, and had a past record in the system for drug abuse and getting involved with the wrong crowd at the wrong time. Since then, Jess had admitted herself to a rehab recovery program in Colorado Springs.

As I flipped through the pages, I stopped at one accompanied by a photo of Jess Clarke. It was an old mug shot taken from the painting theft in Colorado at a local art gallery. But she didn't look like someone who could be a former drug addict or get arrested for art vandalism. She had warm, brown-colored doe eyes set on a heart-shaped face, with a slight olive tone in contrast to her dark-brown hair that was cut at the nape of her neck. Past the guarded expression on her face, I saw a trace of vulnerability in her eyes, making my heart swell in sympathy for the girl.

I pulled out the police report on the statement with CeCe Drake, the woman whom Officer Wilden had interviewed before his death. As I read over the statement, I stopped at one of the paragraphs. CeCe had given Wilden very specific details about the assault, how Jonny had been following Jess right before he attacked her. She'd told him that she saw Jess walking through the woods around seven PM, where she soon overheard struggling as Jess tried to escape her attacker and CeCe hurried to the scene. CeCe had seen Jonny attack Jess and had gotten on top of her with a British fighting knife. So CeCe hit him with a pipe tube from behind that she'd found lying on the ground nearby. By the next morning, Jonny was found and arrested by the police. They'd found pictures of Jess that Jonny had taken and notebooks describing her whereabouts, proving that he'd been stalking her for months. Whatever his motive was, one thing was clear: he wanted Jess dead.

Thinking back to the date of the assault, I recalled the night of the masquerade ball a year ago. The night Jess Clarke was assaulted was also the same night that Mona Vanderwaal was revealed to be A at the ball, who had also been stalking four teenage girls. That couldn't be a coincidence. Jonny and Alison had to be connected in some way. Only someone as smart and confident as Jonny could get away with stalking and assaulting a seventeen-year-old girl.

Like Garrett Reynolds and Ian Thomas. Garrett and Jason had been involved in a secret club known as the N.A.T. Club to spy on teenage girls, started by their old high school friend, Ian.

I turned to my computer to do a background check on Jonny Raymond, and a digital file of crime scene photos from the Colorado art gallery at the Denver Art Museum immediately popped up. Above the article's front page photo, the caption read, _Graffiti Vandal Strikes Again_. Jess had been arrested for possession of Van Gough's Starry Night painting from the museum. When the police had caught her, she was found at a dead-end road two miles away from the museum when she'd supposedly stolen the painting. No other accomplishes were named or seen, but the white 70s Volkswagen van she'd been driving was registered to Jonny Raymond when the cops ran the license plate.

As I skimmed through the article, I noticed a photo that had been taken of Jess at the scene of the crime, with a line of fine print below. I zoomed in on it and Jess' full birth name came up, and I studied it more closely.

Finally, I advanced further to the right of the photo. In regular-sized font read, _Jessica Sophia Clarke_. Jonny was an amateur artist, and Jess had been caught stealing one of the most famous art paintings in the United States.

We had a name.

Spencer

Thursday afternoon, I was sitting on the couch in the back of The Brew's lounge area, Rosewood's café and bookstore, pondering over an article about Radley I'd found on the Internet from my tablet, while my mother deposited a check from one of her clients at the Rosewood Bank a few blocks over. Ever since Andrew had been released from jail, she insisted on being everywhere I was.

I'd been searching for information on Radley files to find any evidence of Charles' supposed death, but after trolling through a list of Google results, I'd finally found a site posting the newspaper article called _Investment Firm Announces Purchase of Radley_ along with a photo of the front of the historical Radley Sanitarium building.

As I scrolled down the page, I saw a number listed at the bottom for the Department of Mental Health and zoomed in to get a better look. In small, clear print it read, 215-555-0109–Pennsylvania's Health Department. If anyone could get a hold of patient medical files, it would be them.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number. While it rang, I caught sight of Ezra at the counter by the register, ordering a cup of coffee to go. He wore a button-down striped shirt and dark jeans, and his hair was combed and smoothed out.

The phone rang two times before a woman answered. "Operator, how can I help you?"

"Hi, uh, my daughter was a patient at Radley," I said. "How can I get hold of her medical records?"

"Files with patients who transferred to another facility have transferred with them, most of the others were sent to River Hill Davis Center."

"That's where they're being stored?" I asked.

"That's where they're being shredded," she answered.

I looked up when I saw Ezra approaching and smiled up at him, trying to be discreet about what I was doing as best I could. I spoke quietly into the phone. "Thank you." I pressed the END button, clicking off.

Ezra stopped in front of the low, glass coffee table in front of me. The corners of his mouth curled up into a small smile. "Hey."

"Hi," I said. I cradled my phone in my hands.

Up close, Ezra looked young for a high school English teacher. He was tall and lanky with dark curls, dimples, and navy-blue eyes. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, showing the tendons in his arms.

"Are you alone?" he asked.

My heart thudded uneasily. Did he want to know if I was alone so he could make a move on me? But that was crazy, I told myself. He was my old English teacher, Aria's ex.

"Uh, my mom just went to the bank," I replied. "She'll be back in a few minutes."

"Ah," Ezra mused. He sat next to me on the sofa, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Listen, um…how are you doing?"

"It's strange to be back," I said. "Everywhere I go, everybody stares at me, but nobody says anything."

"Well, it can be kinda hard to know what to say," he responded.

"Yeah, I guess."

Ezra turned to me, meeting my eyes. "Man, I thought it was finally over. Now that Andrew's been released–"

"We're right back to where we started," I finished.

"That's not true," he disagreed. "Everybody's looking out for you guys. And the police are gonna figure out who's behind this."

I raised my eyebrows at him skeptically. "You really believe that?"

"I do," Ezra said earnestly. "But you need to tell them what you know. Every little detail can help."

Suddenly, a blonde carrying a tray of muffins walked over. Her long and loopy golden hair was pulled back into a bun with some leftover strays framing her thin, angular face, staring warily at Ezra with bright blue eyes. "Oh, uh, hey. Sorry, um, I used up all the blueberries. Can you order some more?"

"Yeah, not a problem," Ezra answered.

"Thanks." The girl smiled, then walked back behind the counter.

I must have had a weird look on my face because Ezra spoke again. "That's our new baker, Sabrina. She reeks of weed, but she makes really great pastries."

I arched an eyebrow at him questionably.

"It's medicinal," he explained.

Just then, Sabrina leaned over the counter, trying to stop a customer from leaving. "You left, um…" But the tray of muffins she'd set down pushed over a plastic cup filled with a berry smoothie and it toppled over the edge, spilling all over the floor.

Ezra cleared his throat. "Helps with her migraines, but it makes her a little clumsy."

I had to stifle back a laugh. "Got it."

As Sabrina reached over to grab a handful of towels to clean up the mess, Ezra rushed over. "Oh, no, it's alright."

Then I glanced at the spilled smoothie, noticing how the dark liquid looked more like blood. My lower lip trembled, and I realized I was shaking. The smoothie sped into focus. I stared at it more closely, feeling disturbed from the sight.

The foundations of my brain started to crumble. I'd seen blood like that somewhere before. It was from my nightmares of the Dollhouse. From A. From the night I didn't want to remember. The memory of that night was incredibly fuzzy and crystal clear at the same time. But just like that, something in my mind clicked, like a light switch, and I was sucked back into a dark room over no control of my own.

Something unfamiliar rolled through my veins. Shock, I realized, dulling the sensation away from my body and icing my skin. Suddenly, the memories began to flood back to me, shaking out of focus like an earthquake. Then a vision flashed in front of my eyes. _My hands lying limp on the floor, covered in blood and staining up the length of my arms. The hard carpet was soaked with more blood, trailing all over the floor of my bedroom in the Dollhouse._ I blinked furiously. The image changed back to the red-colored smoothie, and then suddenly the image steadied.

I saw myself lying on my side and then rolling over onto my back. The room smelled metallic, like blood. I brought a hand to my mouth and realized it was covered in blood, startling awake. I stumbled back against the wall in panic, glancing down at my white tank top, which was drenched with blood. I started panting frantically, my pulse pounding in my ears. The blood on the carpet wasn't coming from me, I realized–it was someone else's.

I could smell the blood smeared on my lips, a bitter taste of rust and salt. My hands hastily fumbled for the hem of my tank top, pulling it up to reveal my bare stomach and not seeing a scratch on me. I saw myself looking down at my hands, dried with someone's blood. My chin wobbled as I stared at down at them, heavy, ragged breaths escaping my mouth. I'd done this. It was all my fault.

I couldn't control my breathing. I started to hyperventilate, feeling my throat constrict. _Calm down_ , I told myself, trying to breathe easily in and out through my nose. But it felt like my lungs were filled with lead and I was drowning.

"Spencer?" Ezra's voice echoed, breaking me out of the memory. He sounded far away, like he was talking underwater.

When I looked up, the face staring at me blurred and shimmered. "Spencer?" Ezra repeated. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said shakily, my mind reeling. "No, I'm fine."

I stared back at him so blankly that I wondered if I'd even spoken at all. My temples pulsed, throbbing painfully into my head like needles.

An icy shiver raced up my spine. There was only one person who could have known what I'd done: Charles.

Later that same Thursday, I sat at at my family's kitchen island with my friends, discussing what to do about Charles' medical files from Radley. My mother had run to her law firm office on Main Street to gather some paperwork for one of her clients' cases she was working on and promised to be back home shortly. As if I was some fragile little flower who couldn't handle doing anything on my own.

All day, my stomach kept turning and twisting uneasily, and my breasts were swelling to the size of mangos. My mind kept going back to Charles–of all the things he knew about me, of the secrets he apparently knew and I didn't. Charles had most likely been dead for five years. But as crazy as it was, I still couldn't shake the horrible feeling that something wasn't right.

"So if Charles died in Radley, it would say it in his patient file?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah." I glanced around at the others, feeling a glimmer of uneasiness.

Emily looked at me. "What if he was released?"

"It would be noted there, too," I answered.

Aria's eyes widened. "So if we get that file, we get the truth."

I nodded, and my head started to throb.

"Assuming it still exists," Hanna added, "it could be confetti by now."

"Well, we have to find out one way or another," Emily said to Hanna.

"I looked up the data center," I said. "It's twenty minutes from here."

"We can't just walk in there and ask for it," Aria pointed out.

"No, but I can ask for mine and then we'll know if they've been shredded."

Emily looked doubtful. "What if they haven't?"

"Then we'll check out the place, see how secure it is, and figure out what to do next," I assured her.

"Caleb can drive us," Hanna piped up.

Emily turned to her. "No, you can't tell Caleb what we're doing. Charles had a knife to Sara's throat, remember?"

"I can't not tell him." I thought I heard a slight irritated edge to her voice. "Em, he's barely left my side ever since he found out Andrew isn't A. He's outside talking to Spencer's mom right now."

"Okay, and what about Sara?" Emily asked her.

I peeked a look at Emily suspiciously, noting she seemed a little too concerned about her new friend.

"I don't even know the girl," Hanna said, sounding uninterested.

"Hanna." Aria turned to her sternly.

"Fine, I'll think of something." Hanna stood up, heading towards the front door that led outside to my house's front gate.

As soon as she left, I pulled out my water bottle to take a sip and unscrewed the cap with shaking hands, feeling jittery and on edge since recalling the Dollhouse memory from The Brew. Only, it didn't feel like a memory exactly. It felt more like a bad dream that I wanted to wake up from. I couldn't tell what was real anymore.

"You okay?" Aria stared at me worriedly.

"Yeah, you know, just been on edge since we got back," I lied.

"Yeah, it's been rough for me too," Emily agreed quietly.

I looked at Aria curiously. "How about you? Are those pills helping?"

Aria shook her head. "Mm-hmm, no. They gave me a huge headache, so I threw them out."

I flicked my tongue against my teeth, a dark cloud quickly forming in my mind. The only thing standing in the way of my sleeping habits improving was my mother, and she made it perfectly clear that she wasn't going to loosen her reign on that one. It wasn't fair. I hadn't found a way to sleep without my anti-anxiety pills, other than the warm, comfort of Toby in my bed, but he could only do that for so long. And I couldn't go near those pills in fear of harming my unborn child.

Aria let out a long sigh. "I'm just trying to not focus on what happened."

I caught a whiff of fresh-brewed Folgers coffee in the kitchen and pulled the collar of my cardigan up to my nose. The smell of coffee tightened my stomach, making me queasy. I tasted a trace of bile in my mouth, and I knew what was coming.

I quickly pushed back from the table. "I'll be right back."

I ran to the bathroom and pushed through the door. The smell, talking about Charles, the idea that I'd have to revisit my past from Radley, was too much. I leaned over the toilet and heaved just as I heard the bathroom door click open. I was in such a hurry, I didn't have time to lock it.

Aria stood in the doorway, her eyes wide. "Spencer? What's going on?"

The bile burning in my throat settled into a dull ache as I slowly turned to her. "I'm pregnant," I blurted, and heaved into the toilet again.

I heard Aria gasp, then felt her gently pulling my hair back from my face as she kneeled down next to me, trying to keep it from falling into the toilet as I vomited. It made me feel oddly comforted.

She rubbed my back. "Shhh. Breathe, Spencer."

When I was done, I locked my eyes onto Aria's, unsure of what to say.

"Is this why you've been acting so weird?" she finally asked.

I stared at her in surprise. I hadn't realized I'd been so obvious. "Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of it being real." I looked at Aria beneath my lashes in shame.

And then Aria grabbed me into a big hug, squeezing hard. I rested my head against her shoulder and her short, raven-dark hair brushed my cheek. It smelled of strawberries and filled my nose.

Aria helped pull me up to my feet and we stood. She took my hand and steered me to the kitchen. As we stopped in the archway, the girls stared at us with quizzical expressions on their faces. I glanced at Hanna sitting at the end of the table, noticing she'd come back.

Emily looked back and forth between Aria and I. "Is everything okay?"

I glanced at the others nervously, my heart pounding. They all looked a little confused. How was I going to tell them? Just blurt out I was pregnant and that I was going to be raising the baby with Toby? There was no way they'd be able to understand. As much as I wanted to have this out in the open, I had no idea how my friends would take it.

I had to hold onto Aria for balance. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," I finally said.

I paused for a moment to look at Aria. She returned my nervous glance with an understanding smile, squeezing my arm in support.

Hanna turned her ice-blue eyes to my brown ones. "Tell us _what?_ Spence, what are you not telling us?"

I took a deep, lungful breath of air. "I'm…I'm pregnant."

There. I said it.

The room was deathly silent for a few, agonizing long moments. For a while, nobody said anything. I bit my lower lip, feeling all eyes on me. Emily and Hanna gaped at me in shock. Hanna was the one to break the silence first.

"Is it Toby's?" she blurted.

" _Hanna,_ " Aria hissed. Emily looked at her disapprovingly.

I suddenly felt faint. Emily's mouth was taut and serious, and a rush of tears flowed down my cheeks.

"How do you feel?" Aria asked gently.

"I don't know," I croaked, shaking. "All of this is happening so fast and I don't know what to do…" I took a breath. "I'm too young to have a baby. I don't know how to juggle this, A, and school."

"But you are." Hanna looked into my eyes, as if she was hoping I'd confirm that I wasn't actually pregnant and this whole thing was just a joke.

"Yes, I am," I said quietly. I stared down at my hands.

We all fell into silence again, staring at the light gray marble-topped kitchen island. Emily looked like she was about to cry. Aria reached over to grab my hand and squeezed. I noticed that she was wearing the clunky turquoise ring I'd gotten her for Christmas and my heart warmed. There was one thing that Charles could never have: our friendships with each other. A had tried to tear us apart before, but it only made us stronger.

"How long have you been…?" Emily trailed off.

"Four months," I admitted. I looked down at the floor, hating the wave of guilt that swept through me.

" _Four months?_ " Hanna shrieked. "You've known all this time?"

I met their eyes guiltily. "I wanted to tell you guys sooner, but I was afraid."

"So you're really going to have this baby and raise it all on your own?" Hanna gasped.

"I won't be alone," I insisted. "I have Toby."

"Does Toby know?" Aria asked me.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "I told him after we got out of that Dollhouse."

"What else does he know?"

"It's a girl." I gave her a half-hearted smile in spite of myself. Within all the darkness and danger, my baby was the one bright spot in all of this. "We found out yesterday."

"Oh my god," Hanna said, grinning unexpectedly at me.

My smile widened, noticing the way Hanna's blonde hair shone underneath the kitchen room lights. "I know."

Aria took both my hands in hers. "Spencer, I want you to know that we're going to be here for you."

I smiled at her tentatively. "I know."

"Are you really going to do this?" Emily finally asked me.

"Yeah," I said. My lips spread into a huge smile as my insides brightened and jostled with overwhelming joy. "I'm going to have a baby!"

Aria, Emily, and Hanna grinned and wrapped their arms around me, squeezing extra tight.

Hanna pulled away, giving me a once over. "I should've guessed you were pregnant. Your boobs have gotten way bigger."

"Hanna!" Aria and Emily said at the same time.

I blushed and tugged on the bra, realizing it had suddenly become too tight. From my increase of appetite and the extra pounds I'd gained, I hadn't had time to notice that my bra cup had grown one size bigger.

"Um, why don't we meet at The Brew in one hour?" I suggested, changing the subject.

"Sounds good." Emily picked up her phone from the table, standing up.

Then she, Aria, and Hanna walked out of the house. Suddenly, an achy sensation sliced into my lower back from the weight of the baby growing inside of me, reminding me of why I couldn't risk endangering her any further. I was happy I'd told everyone about my pregnancy, but I was also a nervous wreck. With the truth now exposed, Charles could not only hurt my child, but now my friends as well.

I sat at the kitchen table and wrapped my hands around my plastic water bottle, contemplating how my life had turned out since finding out I was pregnant. I tried playing several different scenarios in my head, but I still couldn't see any other picture than the one with my baby and Toby in it.

Then, without thinking about it, I grabbed my car keys and my coat, and strolled down the drive to my Toyota Highlander. As I reached for the door's handle, a twig snapped somewhere nearby. I whirled around. A gust of wind swirled across my face, tangling at the tendrils of my hair. The leaves on an overgrown bush along the edge of someone's yard rustled. Someone was watching.

 _Charles?_

I peered into the trees, looking for anyone who might have been lurking behind the enormous pines, but the only thing I could find were the shadows cast on the neighbors' pristine green grass.

Shuddering, I unlocked the car and climbed into the driver's seat. The police station was only five minutes away. I turned the engine and peeled out of the drive, lost in my own thoughts. _How could Charles know so much about us?_ I thought. I went over everything he had done to me–threatened my unborn baby with that sonogram photo, set up Alison that got her arrested for Mona's murder, kidnapped and tortured my friends and I. And Charles had a hand in Sara Harvey's disappearance, too.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I stepped out, heading towards the police station entrance. Several policemen inside were stationed at every door entry while another was speaking in a hushed tone to the assistant at the counter. Everyone was bustling around the first floor, buzzing with commotion.

I turned a corner of the hallway and strode into Toby's office. I stopped in the doorway and watched him as he typed something into his computer. His wide, heavy wood desk was unusually cluttered with manila folders and papers.

Finally, I knocked. Toby's blue eyes widened when he saw me. He looked devilishly handsome in his tight, form-fitting cop uniform. Just the mere sight of him was enough to make my insides turn to goo.

His lips spread up into a smile and his face lit up. "Hey, you."

I hovered in the doorway. "Hey."

Toby frowned. "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No. I just missed you."

"Then come here," he said softly.

I shut the door and walked over to his desk. Toby reached out his arms and pulled me onto his lap. As I snuggled against him, he started peppering me with kisses all over my face. I giggled.

"I'm starting to think you came all the way out here just to snuggle with me," he teased.

I nuzzled into his neck. "I do like snuggling with you."

Toby brushed his lips to my forehead, rubbing my back. "I love you," he sighed.

"I love you, too." I pressed my cheek against his chest and closed my eyes. I loved him so much.

Toby stroked my hair lovingly. After a minute, he grabbed a lock of my waves and pressed it to his nose. "Mmm," he sighed. "I've missed your smell." He buried his face into my hair.

I pressed my lips to his neck, kissing him. Then Toby brought my fingers to his lips, sucking on every one. He tightened his arms around me, and for a while, he just held me.

"What are you working on?" I asked suddenly, fumbling with the collar of his shirt.

Toby kissed my forehead. "Just a case brought to us from the Colorado police. Tanner wants me to do a background check."

I frowned. "What for?"

Toby paused for a moment. "Spence, what do you know about Jonny's ex-girlfriend?"

"Just that she broke up with him. Why?"

He smiled, but his face was tense, strained.

Sensing he didn't want to talk about it, I let it go. I glanced at his desk. A steaming mug of coffee sat by the computer and a picture frame was next to it. I smiled when I saw the photograph. It was a picture of me wearing a grey cardigan and my face was glowing with happiness, showing off my dimples. Toby had taken the picture during our summer together after the hellish masquerade ball.

I pointed at it. "Is that me?"

"Yes," he grinned. "And soon I'll have one of our little girl."

I smiled, pleased, and kissed him on the mouth. He twisted his free hand into my hair and hardened his lips against mine, breathing hard. I savored the taste of his delicious kisses, moaning as I tangled my hands through his hair. Toby didn't try to stop me when I crushed my body against his eagerly. My pelvis throbbed, wanting him.

When we were consumed by each other, my iPhone beeped. I pulled it out of my trench coat's pocket and read the text on the screen. It was from Aria.

We're at The Brew. Ready to go. Where r u?

 _On my way,_ I texted back.

My heart sank in disappointment. "I have to go."

"Okay." Toby kissed my cheek. "I'll come over later to help you pack."

My lips pulled up at the corners slightly, grateful for his help. Over the last couple of days, Toby had been helping me pack all my things into boxes to prepare for the move to his loft. I still hadn't figured out a way to tell my parents that I was moving into my boyfriend's apartment or that I was carrying his baby. But I didn't care about the reason; I was living with Toby because I loved him.

I kissed his lips once more and unwillingly untangled myself from his arms.

Once I met up with Aria, Hanna, and Emily at The Brew, we quickly piled into Emily's car. Hanna sat in the passenger seat, and Aria and I climbed into the back. Then Emily turned out of the lot and pulled onto the wide road, and got on the highway heading south. Horse farms and housing developments flew past as the road narrowed with encroaching trees on both sides. We drove for about fifteen minutes before getting off the exit towards the River Hill Data Center.

The data center was only a mile or so away now. The place wasn't difficult to find, though only the sign, which declared it to be the River Hill Data Center, indicated it was the right one. The building was set back in the woods, but it looked more like a warehouse, built with white-stone brick and trees and shrubs obscuring it.

When Emily parked the car by the back of the warehouse, I hopped out while the others stayed behind so I could get my Radley medical file. I walked around to the front entrance and strolled up the steps, stopping at two large potted primrose plants next to a door that had the words FRONT OFFICE etched across the glass paneling. A security camera perched above slowly swiveled automatically from left to right with my every step. I pulled open the door and walked in.

Inside, the office was surprisingly warm, and smaller than I'd expected. The waiting area was filled with folding chairs, dull grey-flecked commercial carpet, housing real estate posters on the wall, and teal-green walls. A big clock that hung over the wall ticked loudly. The room was cut in half by a long counter at the front, which was empty except for a computer, neatly organized wire baskets of papers, a phone, and a stack of pamphlets about what to do with unwanted storage items. The desk behind the counter was being manned by a man of medium build with russet-brown skin, brown eyes, and slick black hair. There was a small plague on top of the desk that read OFFICE MANAGER.

His gave me a tight smile as I approached. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Spencer Hastings," I informed him. "I was a patient at Radley and I was wondering if you could give me my old medical file. The Mental Health Department told me I could find it here."

"I don't have the authority to hand those over," he said. "I'd have to call your doctor first."

"I need that file," I insisted.

"There's nothing I can do. You'll have to get permission from your doctor if you want your file."

I eyed a stacked pile of documents behind his desk. "What about those?"

"Those files are being transferred to another medical institution," he explained.

"If I could just take a look through the files–"

"I'm sorry," he said, "my hands are tied."

I pursed my lips as I thought of what to do. "Thank you."

I shut the door behind me. Outside, the blue sky was just starting to fade into a dark purple. It would be dark soon in a few hours. Up ahead, Aria, Hanna, and Emily leaned against my car, waiting, as I approached.

Aria looked at me expectantly. "Well?"

"The office manager won't give me my file," I replied. "Has to go through my doctor."

She looked hopeful. "Well, that must mean they haven't been shredded yet."

"Okay, well, there's only two ways into this warehouse." Emily pointed towards the back of the building. "Front door has a security camera and the back door's locked."

I looked in the direction Emily was pointing at. A large garage door yawned open across the street at the back entrance, with a five-ton truck parked outside. Next to it, dumpsters and clear plastic bags of packing foam material sat on either side of a single door. A small sign over the door read NOTICE: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

"What do we do now?" Aria asked.

"Let's talk to Jason and Alison," I suggested. "Maybe they can figure out a way to get his file."

But as everyone started to get back into the car to head back to Alison's house, Hanna stopped suddenly, looking back at the warehouse. "Wait."

Two men in grey polo's and dark pants, the moving company uniform, came out of the building then, pushing hand trucks of marked boxes, which I assumed had to be Radley's patient files, onto a steel platform of a moving truck. They pushed a button, and a mechanical roaring sound splintered the air. In the next instant, the uniformed men were raised to the truck and rolled the stack of boxes inside.

As the movers to unload the boxes of medical files, Hanna, Aria, Emily and I quietly rushed inside the opened back door while they weren't looking.

The warehouse was dark and empty. The only sound coming from the room was the thrumming air conditioning. High metal shelving units held rows of filing boxes for destruction, and the floor was cemented and cold. There was no sign of security cameras hooked up to the walls anywhere. I looked around me to see if someone was wandering within the vicinity of the room, but we were all alone.

"I don't see any cameras anywhere," Aria said as we walked into the enormous, high-ceilinged space.

"Or people," Emily mumbled.

I began to feel paranoid when I realized the movers could come back at any minute for the rest of those Radley patient files. "You guys look for the file," I told them, "I'm gonna keep an eye out."

I walked down one of the aisles, and a shiver slithered down my back. The whole place was eerily quiet. I tried not to think about what could be hiding beyond the shadows and instead concentrated on looking out for anyone who could be lurking nearby the doors so I could warn Aria, Hanna, and Emily.

As I walked further down the aisle, something sparkling caught my eye. One of the overhead lights glinted off of a wall-glass paneled window. I crept up to the window and peered in. The only thing I could see was darkness. It was as if someone had completely abandoned it.

Standing back, I was forced to face my reflection in the see-through window, and straightaway I saw the strange Dollhouse memory that had been plaguing me all day. A gush of emotions sucked into me like a vortex: dread over finding myself covered in blood, fear from the realization that I'd done something terrible, confused because I couldn't remember.

Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of my eyes and I was back in my room at the Dollhouse. I was sitting against the wall of my bedroom, just like I had in the other strange flashes of memory I'd recalled earlier. I saw the large stains of blood on my shirt and I instantly knew it was from the night I couldn't remember. My muscles shook as I tried to claw my way out of the memory, but my heavy and useless limbs wouldn't allow me to.

The room shook again. I looked down at my hands and started to pant, horrified to find them dripping with the same crimson-red blood from before. I crawled towards the trail of blood that led past the door and stood up. Fighting to catch my breath, I tugged on the door handle fiercely, but it wouldn't turn. It was locked. My heart pounded. I banged my hands against the door desperately, leaving bloody handprints on the white paint.

A few spots and flashes flew in front of my line of vision, and then everything else faded with a white bright light. My face swam back into focus across the glass of the window as I snapped out of the memory. I felt my mouth go dry, standing dazed and alone in the middle of the dark aisle way. Whatever I had just remembered, it had something to do with what happened in that room. But what was it?

"Aria found it," Emily called.

I snapped my head in the direction of her voice and saw Emily standing in the aisle a foot away from me. I blinked for a few seconds, confused. Then I numbly followed Emily around a corner, struggling not to fall over. Aria and Hanna were gathered around an opened box that was labeled RADLEY SANITARIUM, and Aria was flipping through the pages from a manila folder.

"So did he commit suicide or was he released?" I asked.

"I don't know," Aria responded. "It doesn't say, there's…there's no paperwork or entries past his sixteenth birthday."

"What?" I said, frustrated. "That can't be everything." I dug furiously through the box, looking for more papers or files that could tell us about Charles' medical history.

"No, it's not," Aria said. "It's just from ages thirteen to sixteen. That's all I could find on him."

"Well, what's the last thing written in there?" Emily asked her.

Aria turned over a page to the report. "Uh…his doctor recommending an increase in his medication, something called Xylotrol?"

My eyes flickered up to hers as the familiar name sunk in. "It's for severe depression."

Aria flipped over another page and frowned. "Wait. Here's his visitors log. There's only two people on it. Alison's mom and someone named Carol Ward?" She looked at me questionably.

My forehead furrowed, trying to think. I looked to Emily.

"Carol is, um, Alison's great aunt," she said.

"Well, if she visited Charles, she must know what happened to him." Hanna looked around at us.

"She can't help us," Emily replied.

"Why not?" I asked her.

"Because she died when we were in tenth grade."

"Okay, just check the rest of these boxes." I tore off the lid of one of the unopened boxes that were sitting on top of the cart. "Make sure that we haven't missed anything."

As we started rifling through them, the back door of the building opened with a loud click, echoing throughout the spacious room.

Panicked, I glanced at the others. "Go, go."

We ran hastily through the room, winding our way into the maze of shelving units to safety. I heard a set of wheels rolling across the floor behind us and picked up my pace.

It took us two minutes to sprint to the back door and slip outside unnoticed. I blinked against the sun, trying to adjust to the harsh light in my eyes after having been in the dark for so long. And then, standing before us, in a navy-blue bomber jacket and dark jeans was Caleb. He stood with his arms folded tightly across his lanky, but muscular chest, staring at Hanna darkly. His face looked furious.

The wind ruffled his dark-brown tousled hair. Caleb had only a few inches over Hanna, but he was still taller and lean, with olive-toned skin beneath his tough guy exterior and charming good looks. Judging from his overpowering stance, it seemed Caleb had already been waiting for us while we were inside the warehouse, rummaging for Charles medical files from Radley.

Caleb glared at us for a long minute. I stared back at him, stunned by his angry reaction and how he'd managed to find us. He knew what we were up to, it was obvious.

I couldn't think of anything to say to him, so I just followed Emily and Aria back to the car. He didn't speak as I walked with them across the street–waiting until we were out of earshot to rip Hanna a new one, I presumed.

Another complication thrown in our plan to find proof that Charles was really dead. But could Caleb really blame us for trying to uncover the dark truth, to ease our minds that Charles wasn't the one who had tortured us in that Dollhouse?

The answer was clear in Caleb's eyes: yes, he could.

Jess

The starlight sparkled and gleamed overhead outside, creating a dazzling effect over the town of Ohio. The May sky, a clear, light blue canvass hours before, had now changed to an inky black. My chest tightened with panic as I hurried through the house.

After closing my bedroom door, I immediately went to my dresser with shaking hands, frantically throwing clothes into a duffel bag that I'd pulled out from the hallway closet. I didn't pay attention to what I took. I grabbed my grey cashmere winter hat from the top drawer and pulled it tight over my head to hide my face. Then I zipped up my black hoodie, pulling the sleeves over my hands, which were covered with my favorite charcoal cashmere mittens.

I didn't have much time. I had to get out of here before he found me. I packed the rest of my things into the duffel bag. Three pairs of jeans, two sweaters, some shirts. Panties and bras. Socks. A toothbrush and toothpaste. A brush. Cheese and crackers and some protein bars, and a blue Nalgene water bottle. Next, I went to the kitchen and pulled out the envelope of money I'd stashed a week before underneath the sink. Then I dug out the burner cell phone I'd duck-taped to the side and shoved it inside my jeans pocket. I needed all these to start a new life. I hated the thought of leaving the one person who I depended on most, my best friend Joshua Callahan, but I didn't have any other choice. I had to leave.

I waited until my neighbors had left for work. I couldn't risk anybody seeing me, didn't want anyone to recognize me in case he asked. I watched with a heavy heart as Joshua left his house and climbed into his forest-green Chevy truck. A shimmer of golden blonde wavy hair fell in a mess in front of his bright blue eyes, and his face still looked innocent and charming in the morning light with high cheekbones that made girls swoon. Joshua was lean and strong–someone who'd spent years protecting me from the polo-wearing, preppy, rich, private school boys who took enjoyment out of hitting on me profusely. He was the one person in this world who I cared about most, and I was leaving him.

I reached for the necklace that rested against my collarbone, a heart-shaped gold locket with initials engraved on the back that still gave me questions to this day. I'd had it forever; I didn't go anywhere without it. It had been a gift from my mother when I was just a baby. I remembered my mom lifting the lid of my baby box, pulling out the locket from under a teething bunny, my wool-knitted baby blanket that was stitched with my name in silk pink ribbon, and a silver rattle, and putting it around my neck. I touched the heart-shaped locked with my tiny fingers and noticed two singular letters etched into the sparkling gold metal. My mom told me that someday, when I got older, she would tell me what the mysterious initials meant.

I never knew what the odd initials stood for, but the locket was the only good thing I had left of my mother, special even. Even after everything she'd put me through, I still ached for her.

I paused for a moment, filled with regret and the temptation to stay. Desire to run to Joshua consumed me. I couldn't believe I was leaving without him. It was always me and him against the world. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it, coming back to my senses. I couldn't get emotional about this; I had to remember why I was doing this.

I made sure Josh drove away before pulling the hood of my sweater over my head. Then I set off past the side gate, staying close to the white-picket fence line, and slipped into the woods.

I ran blindly through the gloomy darkness, gasping, my feet pounding against the earthen ground. With no light to guide me, I had to rely on feel. My hands felt around the trees and brush, trying to find my way. Everywhere I looked it was coated in black.

I could hear him calling my name now from somewhere within the forest, not too far behind. The sound of his voice twisted my stomach. Sticks snapped close by.

His voice grew louder, deep and full of fury. "Jess!" he yelled.

He found me.

Terror pushed down on my chest. My breathing came out more ragged and thick by the effort of escaping _him._ I quickened my pace when he started moving in on me. I used the bark of the trees to grab onto as I slipped on the moss-covered areas, feeling as though I was running through quicksand.

Suddenly, I felt the ground give out beneath me, swallowing me up in a bottomless pit of thorns. My knees buckled, and I fell over onto the forest floor. A piercing wail tore from my throat. I struggled to get away, but the pit dragged me in deeper. It felt like someone was pulling me down. The thorns on the branches clawed at my arms and face, searing my skin.

The sound of heavy footsteps grew closer, as if the person following me was getting closer. More sticks snapped behind me. I heard his voice calling my name from the heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him. Panicked, I strained forward to grab onto a tree limb for support and pulled myself out. I cried out as the branches yanked at my hair.

I ran around the bend, heading deeper into the forest, dodging branches and brush along the way. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, until I reached a circular clearing.

I froze. Walls of thorn bushes twisted and snaked around the pine and oak trees, overlapping along the edges of the forest clearing, ranging miles. By the time I would reach the end of the bushes, he'd have me. It was the dead end I'd feared. There was no way I would make it out in time.

I was trapped. The only way out would be crawling underneath the wall of thorn bushes. Whirling around, I looked around anxiously, trying to find another escape. When I couldn't find any, I succumbed to crawling into one of the enormous bushes, twisting my body to move through the twigs and branches. A thorn dragged across my arm and dug deep into my skin as I crawled through the dirt. I bit down on my lip, trying to swallow down the pain.

I yelped out in agony when one of the thorns caught my arm. It didn't go in too deep, but the impact left a throbbing sensation in my left arm. I yanked myself free from the thorn bush maze and landed on the moss-covered grass with a giant thump, ignoring the excruciating pain I felt across my skin, sure I'd cut my arm. But I was alive. If there was one thing I could do right, it was surviving.

I heard him calling my name again, and I knew I had to move. I quickly scrambled to my feet and ran as fast as I could. My leg muscles were aching with pain, but I ignored it and continued on. I couldn't stop, even when I felt a trickle of blood drip down my sleeve and pattered onto the leaves.

When I felt my phone buzzing from my jeans pocket, I froze in my tracks. I dug it out and my heart raced, my eyes widening. It was a text. With a shaking hand, I slowly pressed READ.

I KNOW YOUR SECRET. – A

It was who I thought. I stared down at the text fearfully, feeling my throat constrict. How could he know?

Over the past few months, I'd been receiving text messages and notes from someone who went by the singular initial _A_. The messages had mostly been about my troubling drug-using past, but they'd also mentioned other dark secrets as well, things that no one else could possibly know about. My life had been nothing but a perfect lie. But I would do anything to uncover the truth, even if that meant pretending to be someone else. And my attacker was watching my every move. As it turned out, he played a lot of games–games that hurt people.

He wanted revenge, and he wanted me dead.

I slid my phone back into my pocket. I had to escape. I would not give up, wouldn't stop running until I reached the edge of the forest.

I heard the sound of twigs snapping behind me. I chanced a peek over my shoulder, breathing hard. But there was only darkness and trees.

I sped through the trees as I followed the path hastily, winding its way out of the darkened woods. There was a way. Maybe not a way to win, but a way to survive. By the time I stopped to catch my breath, I had reached the creek on the trail. I spotted some open spaces through the maple branches and descended upon the hill. And then I could hear the grumbling and swishing of cars rushing nearby on the expressway, and I was free. The road stretched out before me, beckoning me, promising me safety.

I could feel the cool breeze on my face as the traffic zoomed by. I'd made it. I was finally free.

As soon as I was sure that I was safe, I stood at the far corner of one of the neighboring blocks and called a cab to pick me up from the street. It stopped at the curb fifteen minutes later. I climbed inside the backseat of the cab and gave the driver my destination. He pulled away and wove through Ohio's quiet streets.

I lived in a small town of rambling farmhouses and massive Victorian houses, accompanied by wind mills on the north side. In Fairfield, Ohio, you were either a millionaire that lived on a twenty acre farmhouse, or you lived in a craftsman-style house with peeling paint on the outside walls. The big houses were on Prospect, and everyone else lived north of Main Street. It was full of moss-covered oak trees, acres of family-run farms, and deers and possums wandering on the highways. We had a Starbucks, but it wasn't big or glamorous like the ones in New York. There were auto car shops at every block, the library stood in the center of town square where its famous clock tower struck at midnight every night, the old church was small and its pews were worn, and the closest supermarket was on Dixie Highway. The only decent movie theatre was the Cineplex at Beavercreek, by the Fairfield Commons Mall. It was just a vacant area, far away from any civilization.

Not much happened in Fairfield. I went to school with the same people I grew up with since we were five, talking to the same people, seeing the same quintessential typical preppy boys, knew every secret and sin in this town. It never changed. I used to feel suffocated here in Fairfield, but now I would give anything to have that ordinary routine back. To feel normal again.

I looked out the window of the cab, feeling the numbness seep in as we passed the various store buildings and restaurants, including Lolita's, the small restaurant where Joshua and I spent hours sharing pastry bread on the days when we skipped school. There was the University of Ohio, which was famous for its football teams and undefeatable game scores. And there was the swimming hole. Joshua and I used to swim there with his jock friends during our carefree summers, and the kids from school would jump off the old maple tree on the upper rocks.

And then there were the abandoned train tracks. It used be a train station, but one year, a boy from our class walked on the railroad and got hit by a speeding train, and he was killed instantly. The train tracks were abandoned after that, making it seem eerie and haunted. There were rumors that the boy's ghost lingered by the train tracks of the perimeter at night, guarding the railroad. I'd even heard whispers that a stalker had been secretly keeping his lair there, concealed by an underwater bridge nearby. I tore my eyes away from the window, feeling a shiver run up my spine.

I slumped down in my seat, willing myself not to cry. I couldn't lose control. It was too late to turn back now–I'd made my choice.

Next, we pulled onto Highway I-670 and drove east. When the cabbie took a left, a mountain rose up before my eyes. It shimmered purple, uninterrupted by the expanding blue sky. In the next minute, a small historic, neoclassical Victorian-style depot swarmed with cars and other taxi cabs. Hanging above the doors, a small sign read, OHIO TRAIN STATION. As we rolled to a stop at the curb, I noticed the outlines of the turret silhouetted against the early morning sky.

"Here you go," the driver said, pulling up to the curb.

 _This was it, no going back now._ I handed him four twenties from my duffel bag and stepped out onto the pavement, not waiting around to see if I had paid enough. The noises of chatter filled my ears as people bustled by with their bags and luggage, trying to move quickly to find the trains that were about to leave the platform outside.

Inside the station, I pushed past the crowd and went straight up to the ticket booth to pay for my ticket to Pennsylvania.

My train was scheduled to leave in five minutes. He could be here by now, looking for me. As soon as I paid, I quickly grabbed my ticket and rushed to the platform by the waiting area. I kept my head down as I ran, keeping the hood close around my face.

In the distance, I saw the black SEPTA train waiting on a set of tracks, and my heart pounded. Its signal lights at the front flicked on and the lever in the wheels started to turn, indicating that the train was about to leave. I had to hurry.

I raced toward the train, my feet flying across the crunching gravel. Thankfully, I stepped on and moved down the aisle. I found a train car in the back and shut the door so no one would think of sharing it with me. And then the train took off.

I sat back against the seat and hid beneath my hood. Holding my duffel bag to my chest, a surge of relief flooded me as the train pulled away from the station platform. On the bridge, Fairfield began to fade away into the distance, miles away from home. I knew what I had to do. My plan was set in place. Now all I had to do was follow the path I'd paved for myself. I was scared and alone, and only had the things I'd taken with me, but there was one person who could help me.

Alison DiLaurentis.

Alison and I had been best friends since I could remember. Our parents had beach houses next door to each other in Baltimore, Maryland, and every summer, they took Ali and I to the beach where we'd spend countless hours in the sand, frolicking in the shallow waters with her older brother, Jason. We'd been going to our family's beach houses every summer since we were babies. The house was my world, my home. It had its own private stretch of beach, its own temperature-controlled wine cellar, all to ourselves. At night, Ali and I would sneak downstairs to drink her mom's bottle of pinot noir wine. The beach house was filled with all sorts of memories–the wraparound porch we used to run around, glasses of lemonade, the dock where we'd jump off to go swim in the ocean, the swimming pool–but most of all, Jason.

Jason was six years older than Ali. He was dark and mysterious, brooding, unavailable. He had an irresistible full, pink mouth, the kind you wanted to kiss. I would sometimes find myself staring at it, the way it curved whenever he smirked or when he was laughing at one of Ali's jokes. I always thought if Jason wasn't so moody and quiet, he'd be more popular at school. But he was special to me. Jason was the sweet boy who held my hand when I cut myself after slipping on the dock, or who gave me sea glass from the sand on the beach. He was always so nice to me. But then sometime between sixth and seventh grade, something changed.

As we grew older, Jason had gotten cuter and all the girls–including me–noticed. Somehow, he'd turned into a beautiful Greek God overnight. That summer, Jason was old enough to work at the country club as a lifeguard. The pretty girls at the beach would flirt with him constantly. Every time I saw one of them touching or talking to him, the pangs of jealousy would ignite. I felt invisible next to them. Jason used to look at me like I was the only one he could see. Until that summer. That summer, he was more interested in the cute girls than me. And all I wanted was to make him mine.

My mother and Alison's mom, Jessica, had been pregnant at the same time; I was born in December, Alison in June. But when I was born, my mom still hadn't decided what to name me. My mother and father were staying in our beach house in Baltimore at the time when she'd been heavily pregnant with me, and Jessica DiLaurentis, who had a beach house next door, knew the ups and downs of pregnancy and so she would often come over to make herbal tea and rub my mother's feet. Jessica had been spending so much time at the house that eventually she and my mother had become close. So close that my mom had decided to name me Jessica, in honor of one of her best friends. By the time Ali came along, we had already bonded since our moms were best friends–soul sisters, they called each other. On cloudy days, Jessica would bring Alison over to the beach house to visit my mother. We'd watch movies together and eat Oreos dipped in peanut butter until our fathers and Jason would come back from the country club's fancy seafood buffet.

Alison wasn't student body president, or captain of the cheerleading squad. She was _Alison_. She was beautiful, witty, smart, popular. It was why every guy wanted her, and why every girl envied her. With her long and wavy, golden blonde hair, heart-shaped face, pink pouty lips, and big blue eyes, it was easy to understand why she was instantly pegged as the most beautiful girl in Rosewood. Everyone thought she was perfect, too intimidating to approach–especially since she had a tendency to target people whom she'd deemed not good enough to enter her sphere. And some had labeled her as the evil Queen Bee at Rosewood High. But I knew exactly who she was. Alison was the one who stayed up with me on the phone at six-years-old when I was afraid the boogeyman was going to eat me, the one who came over after school when I was sick with the flu and made me soup, who threatened Jake Parker, my first boyfriend, to stay away from me after he'd dumped me because he wanted to "see other people" at the end of seventh grade. We were different, Ali and I, but then alike in so many ways. I was reckless and preferred to be alone, Alison was spontaneous and outgoing; I hated dishonesty, and Ali lied to protect herself. I'd known her long before she'd become royalty in Rosewood.

But by the time ninth grade started, Alison had chosen four girls from Rosewood High, Spencer Hastings, Aria Montgomery, Emily Fields, and Hanna Marin, to be her best friends. With them by her side, Alison held all the power–to not have to fear her enemies anymore, to attend the best parties, to nab the cutest boys in school, declaring anyone who wasn't part of her inner circle losers. And I was just as content not being a part of it.

We were in different places in our lives, with Ali in Rosewood and me in Fairfield, but it didn't stop us from having monthly visits, and exchanging frequent phone calls and texts. And despite all the power and popularity Alison had gained just by uniting the girls in friendship, she seemed to genuinely care for them. Like whenever Ali mentioned Spencer's perfect penmanship or Aria's writing, she'd gush about them profusely. Or when we'd read _Vogue_ by the side of the pool during our summers together, Ali would brag that Hanna knew more about fashion that anyone, or that Emily was the most talented state-ranked swimmer at Rosewood High. And the more I learned about them, the more I couldn't help but feel intrigued by the four girls. I kept imagining how meeting them would be like. But that had been a long time ago. Rosewood was only a detour stop until I could move on again.

I would often find my thoughts drifting back to Jason in winter, wondering if he was helping Ali decorate the Christmas tree. I pictured those girls who had snowball fights with him in the woods of Rosewood. The ones who snuggled up to him by the fireplace while they waited for the flames to flicker, the ones Jason gave his coat to when it got cold outside. And I was jealous, knowing that he'd never notice someone like me. I'd stare out my ice-frosted window and wonder what he was doing, if he was thinking about me too. I counted the days until summer, when I'd be at that house in Baltimore again. It was like I wasn't really living until June.

I stared out the window, watching as the beautiful, familiar town rushed around me. Lush pine trees loomed before me, where the horizon overhead created an early sunset. The sky was still clear, but darkening through the streaks of blue and purple. Here in Rosewood, Pennsylvania, a little suburb twenty miles from Philadelphia, everything looked flawless. The flowers and grass smelled sweeter, water tasted better, and the houses were bigger. Rosewood smelled like lilacs and fresh pine, I recalled. It had fancy boutiques, cute bistros, and colonial-era estates.

I wanted to talk to Alison about everything that was going on. I needed to tell her that I was scared and that I was running away because Jonny Raymond had found me again. I wanted to tell her that I didn't have much money–money for the cab and the train ticket had taken up more than half of the savings I'd collected for the past three months–and I didn't have anywhere else to go. That he'd find me and hurt me. I wanted to tell her that I didn't know where I was going to sleep, and I didn't know what to do. I was confused and scared and alone.

Ali would know what to do. She always did, ever since when we were kids. She was always there, protecting me. From my father, from Jonny. Alison had a talent for using the truth against someone and escaping sticky situations.

I yearned to find a place that was safe. To be able to go where I wanted, whenever I wanted, without having to worry constantly about who was lurking behind me. And to live in a home where I could finally feel safe and secure. A safe haven.

 _Friends forever_ , Ali had said. That was her promise to me, that we'd be best friends for eternity. It was the same promise that I was counting on to keep me safe.


	8. Chapter 8

8\. The Getaway

Jess

I arrived in Rosewood in the late afternoon. It was warm, but not blistering. I hung back when the passengers got off, waiting for all of them to leave. As I stepped off the train at the platform, I looked around me and took it all in. The massive Victorian homes, pristine green lawns on the quiet streets, an enormous, triangular-shaped chapel, the coffee shops and boutique stores that lined the streets. I was definitely in Rosewood.

Everything about Rosewood was beautiful. Even its smells were pretty, like honeysuckle and lilacs. It felt right, like the small town had been waiting for me, but with a twist of disturbance in the air.

I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder, packed with the few things I planned to take with me. I wasn't bringing much, just enough clothes to last me a week at the very least between washing and the basic hygiene. There was no sense in developing a fondness to personal belongings. If I was going to survive, I had to detach myself from my old life. I had no intention to settle here. I'd be long gone before anyone could figure out who I was. Rosewood was just a stop on the way before my next destination, though I sometimes found my thoughts drifting back to my house and bedroom, and all the things and people I'd left behind.

There was a cabin nestled deep within the woods just outside of Rosewood's town limits, far from any trail or path in the middle of nowhere. It was a small place, but it was out of the way. The cabin was built with two floors and wooden-plank walls, concealed by oak and pine trees that stretched to the mountain summit. The bathroom was small and the bedroom upstairs didn't have a closet, but it was furnished and the living room and kitchen was spacious enough to feel like home. The place was dusty and covered with sheets from years of neglect. The cabin belonged to my aunt and she'd stopped using it years ago, so there was a good chance of no one finding me there. It was isolated from any civilization, which was why I liked it.

I breathed in the honeysuckle air and noticed a coffee shop across the street. A big neon red sign hung above the window, proclaiming it as The Brew. I hadn't noticed it before the last time I was here and assumed it must have been built over the last couple of years.

The sudden twist of my empty stomach reminded me of my hunger. I glanced at the sky overhead, which was just starting to darken. Maybe if I hurried, I could grab a cup of coffee before heading out to the cabin.

I pushed through The Brew's glass-paneled front door and stood in line to order a cup of coffee to go. As I waited, I looked around the shop. Long, oak-wooden tables by the rear window were filled by kids from Rosewood High, while others lounged along on the couches and comfy chairs that were half-concealed by long, velvet curtains. The floral, fabric counter stools were all vacant, the marble-topped table cluttered with half-eaten plates of bagels and cupcakes. On the other side of the room were countless selves of books to buy ranging from literature to fictional drama, and an espresso machine behind the counter brewed two ceramic cups of steaming coffee. The place was nice, I had to admit, and it wasn't like the other coffee shops here in Rosewood that felt cramped and smelled faintly of old cheese. Whoever had remodeled The Brew must have had unique taste.

When it was finally my turn at the cash register, I came face-to-face with a guy who had dark, curly hair, deep brown eyes, and was tall and lean, but not lanky. I searched for a name tag, but he wasn't wearing one. Taking by his navy-blue button down shirt and dark jeans, I could only guess he had to be the store owner. Up close, the guy smelled slightly of Lacoste cologne and dusty old books. He looked like he could be in college, exactly the type of guy Ali would go for.

His pink, full lips spread up into a genuine smile. It was the kind of smile that made girls melt. "What can I get for you?"

"An Americano." I set my bag down on the counter to pull out a few dollar bills from my wallet.

"Just the coffee for you then?"

I glanced up at the guy from underneath my lashes. "Yeah."

"That'll be two-fifty," he said.

I handed over the money as the guy set a white paper cup in front of me. But then he looked straight into my eyes, unnerving me. As crazy as it sounded, it felt like he was staring at me as though he recognized me. But I'd never seen him before in my life.

"Hey, have we met before?" The guy continued to stare at me, looking perplexed.

"No." I kept my eyes down, trying to appear casual.

Whoever this guy was, I couldn't risk him finding out who I was, even if he thought we'd known each other at one time. I was thankful for the hood of my sweater that hid my face.

The guy frowned. "Sorry, you just…seem really familiar."

My heart hammered in my chest. _Ali_.

I lifted my cup of coffee. "Well, thanks."

"Don't mention it." He waved farewell as I pushed out the door, fighting against the impulse to sprint down the street.

Outside, the wind played with the strands of my hair and the town was illuminated only by the street lamps glowing on the sidewalk corners. I would have to walk the rest of the way there to the cabin. I couldn't be seen.

I was on the rough, woodsy countryside within twenty minutes, making sure to stay close to the wooden roadside fence with my duffel bag in tow. Cars swished by on the bumpy road and I kept my face down, hoping none of the drivers could see me.

I found the unpaved road easily, just a flat terrain of dirt and grass. The sloping path turned sharply north, then twisted abruptly southward that stretched out for another two miles into the deep tundra of the forest. It went north and then south, the way I'd always seen the lines in my memories. Just like a mountain peak.

The lines that would lead to Ali. She would find me.

Alison would have figured it out with or without my help. She was smarter than me, and she had pictures of the cabin.

It was a five-hour walk from here on foot, something I was used to after having spent a year on the run from Jonny. I felt the desire bubbling beneath the surface: freedom. To be able to go where I wanted without having to fear someone following me. The prison of that life was unbearable, to be left scared and vulnerable with no real choices. To be trapped.

I walked over a grassy hump and felt myself relax as the rambling farmhouses disappeared behind me, and I was soon surrounded by the sparse shrubbery of overgrown trees. The distance to the cabin seemed to loom miles away, but I kept my feet moving. The faster, the better.

My steps began to falter as I moved further through the forest. The muscles in my body ached, screaming for mercy, but I was tougher than that. I moved my arms and legs forward, no matter how useless they felt. I kept fighting towards an impossible goal. But if it seemed impossible, that was exactly the kind of fight you had to take on.

I lengthened my stride and focused on the trail ahead of me. I was careful to step only on the small, flat rocks nestled in the prickly pine needles covering the forest floor so as not to leave any tracks behind. I had to stay off the dirt path, make sure that I wasn't being followed. Still, I continued to watch for him.

The miles passed quickly as the sky fell into nightfall. I could just make out the dark silhouettes of trees and the shrubs, making my way over the moss-covered fallen trees and rock boulders that bordered west.

I shivered in my jacket, straining my eyes to catch a glimmer of light from the moon glowing behind the thick, bristly trees. The only sounds in the deafening woods were coming from the owls hooting from the treetops. The loneliness soothed me.

I let my mind drift to the cabin as I climbed over the dark rocks, dreaming of that place. I counted nineteen steps before reaching the end. I pushed my legs forward without a second thought.

The path lay ahead of me now, of my careful trek across the wooded preserve outside of Rosewood. The cold forest felt safer to me in some ways, mostly because the branches were thick and concealing from the rest of the world.

The dirt road continued to wind upward, until it was interrupted by another pathway leading downhill into a valley of green grass and massive willow tress. I gazed upon the sight in pure astonishment. The small, cottage cabin hadn't changed since the last time I'd seen it. It stood a few feet away, on the other side of a streaming river flowing through the trees. In the ground, a cedar-wooden picket fence bordered the yard, between the short curved gate door and the rock-stone pathway to the cabin. And then, beyond the stone steps, was the familiar arched, wooden-plank cottage door.

I imagined Jonny right now, of his reaction when he couldn't find me in town, and shuddered. I considered turning around immediately. How long would it take for him to figure out where I really was? And what would he do once he knew I had wandered all the way to an isolated cabin deep in the woods as a ploy to escape him? Jonny would find me, I was sure of it. He always did. He would know where I was. But I refused to let him know that I was weak. For the time being, all I could do was look over my shoulder and watch for him.

It was like Cinderella, but without the handsome and charming prince to sweep me off my feet. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous thought. I didn't need a hero. I didn't then, and I didn't now.

I shut the door firmly behind me, bolting the locks securely. Hopefully no one would notice that I was here. I grimaced. This was not the first time I'd run from Jonny.

The first time was about a few months ago after I'd discovered who he really was, when he'd left me and fled after the police came to arrest me for helping him steal a famous Van Gough painting at an art museum in Colorado. I hadn't realized then that it had all been a set up. Later that night, I broke into his house and found several pictures he'd taken of Ali and me, and a crime map of all the horrible things that had happened in Rosewood. Jonny knew everything. He wanted revenge for all the terrible things Ali did. And he'd been spying on Alison since he joined the N.A.T. Club that was created to watch teenage girls and record them on video. When Ali found Jonny's tapes, she threatened to go to the police with them if he told anyone about what he knew about her binding Jenna Marshall, a girl in her neighborhood who had lost her sight during a fire that Alison had accidently started. She also learned that he was wanted back in Italy for numerous petty theft, possession of stolen paintings, and sexual assault. Jonny agreed to leave silently. But shortly after she'd blackmailed him, the police scoured the entire city for Jonny in in Italy when an anonymous source turned over evidence of all the felonies he'd committed. Jonny blamed Ali for the cops discovering his true identity and made a plan to get revenge against her, which unfortunately involved getting close to me in order to reach his goal. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed the photos, his journals that documented my whereabouts, and the crime map proving that Jonny had been planning to hurt me as a twisted plan to extract revenge against Alison. An hour later, he'd found me and nearly stabbed me to death, disappearing into the night with the only evidence I had that guaranteed my safety and Ali's.

The next time I'd gotten as far as New York before Jonny found me again, possibly to permanently shut me up about what I knew about his illicit N.A.T. Club activities. I'd taken money that Ali had left for me at our secret drop off location and bought a ticket for the bus, but he'd found me within an hour of arriving in the city. He'd chased me into a back alley where no one would see me and beat me. Then he pulled out a knife at my throat. Luckily, I knew how to fight, so I kneed him in the groin and took off.

After that, it became much harder to hide from him. Jonny started tracking me obsessively and went to extraordinary lengths to find me. He was dangerous and persistent, and his instincts were usually right. Every time I ran, I made up a fake name to conceal my identity so he wouldn't be able to track me down, relying only on the money Ali gave me whenever I had to move to a new place. We always met in secret, at night where no one would think to look for us. But one day, she left me a message in our secret code, telling me I had to pick up the money at a UPS store. When I opened the package, I found a note attached to the wad of bills inside that read, _Stay safe._ An ache welled up deep inside of me. I never missed Ali more than I had in that moment.

I ran to the bus station that same night and stepped onto the first bus heading to Arizona. When I got on, I hid in the backseat. It took several hours before the bus finally arrived in the Tuscan city. The baking heat irritated my skin and my clothes stuck to my body from the sweat, but it was far away from Jonny. I found a room to rent on the far side of town, and although it was more expensive, it provided privacy and my own shower and bathroom. I stayed there for two weeks, a longer period of time than I'd ever spent in one place, and eventually moved on to Minnesota. I picked up a job as a waitress at a small diner, accumulating tip money to help pay for the run-down motel I rented by the week. I was able to save a few hundred dollars, but not enough to start over. Again, I packed up my stuff and left without bothering to quit my job. I could never stay in one place for very long. I frantically searched the bus schedule at the station and boarded the one that would take me as far as Charleston, Maine.

I was there by the evening. The constant moving around and job changing was never ending, but it was worth it as long as I could stay somewhere safe, if only for a little while.

There were times when Jason and I used to dream of running away together–of all the places we'd go. Italy was always our favorite. Jason said we'd assume different identities and sip wine at the Tuscany sunset. When I hesitated, saying we could never do that without our families noticing, Jason said we'd come up with a decoy plan. He thought it was romantic and exciting. Wherever we chose to go, Jason promised me we'd spend every waking moment together, and I had secretly hoped that meant he loved me as much as I loved him. But instead of telling him that, I just said he had no reason to run away, his life was perfect in Rosewood. And Jason would grimace, saying I was wrong. Then he told me everything about his family, how they always ignored him and gave all the attention to Ali instead, of all the lies and the secrets that tore their family apart. How Jason's father mistreated him because Jason wasn't really his son. I felt his pain and opened up to him about my absent mother and the father who never treated me like his own, only as his property. That was the first time I realized that Jason and I weren't that different.

In the upstairs bedroom of the second floor, I unpacked my duffel bag and pulled out the supplies I'd used earlier to slip Ali the decoded note on top of her car tire, alerting her to my whereabouts. Thick parchment paper, my black Chinagraph pencil, and an initial letter _A_ wax seal stamp. I'd written the message with grammatical errors so that only she would know what I meant and then sealed it with candle wax from the stamp.

Next, I started unpacking my clothes from the duffel bag and put them away into the mahogany wooden dresser. The room was spacious and cozy, but it was freezing from having turned off the thermostat for the hot summer months and there was no electricity, so there was no light anywhere in the house. And you'd have to go down the creaky stairs at night to use the bathroom at the end of the hall. The bed was shoved into the corner by the small four-paneled window, where it opened up into the encroaching forest. I had enough money to last me four days, plus the little food I'd brought from home, but that could only last for so long.

I touched the ruffle-lined white comforter with the matching oversize pillows on top. It was still neatly made, almost as if no one had slept in it. My grandmother's floral-printed quilt lay folded in half at the end of the bed. In the corner, the rickety old rocking chair from my baby days sat on the hardwood floor, accompanied by a yellow cotton blanket. The wood-paneled ceiling was peaked, with stark-white walls and a heating furnace built into the wall that was always breaking, especially in the winter months.

I sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, afraid of what was going to happen, my mind whirling. I tried to tell myself that Ali would find me soon and everything would be okay.

Outside, the sky had fallen into a dark blue, but the moonlight shone in through the window. I heard voices murmuring quietly below and looked out. Walking through the wide and twisting path of trees and thorny briar bushes at the bend was Aria, Hanna, Ali, and…Jason.

My heart thumped. I could just barely make out the dark outline of his silhouette. He'd grown taller since that last time I'd seen him, and his shoulders and arms were hard and muscular underneath his olive-green jean jacket. A soft wind rustled through the trees then, blowing a few stray golden hairs off his forehead. He pushed further into the woods, beaming a flashlight across the grassy area, checking over his shoulder to make sure Alison and her friends were still following behind. All of the girls teetered haphazardly in their knee-high and ankle boots, dodging braches along the way. Ali looked like she was shaking and her teeth were chattering, the way she always did whenever she was afraid. Hanna's cropped, pale blonde hair shone in the moonlight's bathing glow and she was holding her phone in her hand, as if she might need to call for help in case something went wrong.

About a hundred feet away was Alison's great aunt's house, before she had passed away two years ago. Jason's flashlight moved along the left of the cabin and I quickly ducked away from the window, praying no one had seen me. As soon as they disappeared into the trees, I yanked the curtains shut, my heart hammering. I couldn't keep living this way, I thought to myself. I wasn't strong enough. By morning, Ali would find my note, but then what? How would I explain everything to her?

I grabbed my bathroom bag and walked down the stairs slowly, not fully registering anything. I left the lights off and slipped through the door. I stood in the shower, too tired to move, my body aching all over. The hot water of the shower unknotted the tense muscles in my back and legs, warming my cold skin. I lifted my face into the steaming spray, letting the familiar scent of my shampoo calm my anxiety about tonight. I tried not to think of Ali coming home late at night, waiting to see how she'd react to my sudden reappearance. The thought of Alison wanting nothing to do with me as everyone else in my life had rejected me was unbearable.

I stumbled out thirty minutes later, wrapping myself securely in a towel. After running a brush through my tangled hair and brushing my teeth, I dressed for bed and then climbed underneath the quilt, curling into a ball on my side to keep warm.

I drifted off to sleep within minutes and the pain in my back slowly subsided. The room was still freezing even though I'd locked all the windows, but it was warm underneath the heavy blankets.

Despite all my fears I found myself smiling. I really did it. I'd escaped Jonny and he was hundreds of miles away. And even if he found out where I was, there was no way he'd figure out that I'd come here.

My mind continued to swirl dizzily with images of Jason, ones I fought to repress. I couldn't understand any of it. But as I eventually fell into unconsciousness, a strange image floated through my mind. I could see the two of us standing on the beach that day in Baltimore, whispering in quiet voices that only we could understand. I could see the sun shining in Jason's hair, making it look extra buttery and gold, and my face was tilted up to his. Jason smiled down at me, and then suddenly I felt the same way I did that day, like an invisible cord was pushing us together.

Something was happening. As I eventually fell into unconsciousness, a voice deep inside of me spoke. It came to me as a whisper and sounded strangely familiar, awaking me to all my senses. And a small part of me knew I'd heard it somewhere before.

 _You are connected by an invisible silver cord, one that can never be broken. Your lives are forever entwined, linked by fate._

Jess

The next morning, I woke up feeling groggy and unsettled. All night, I'd been tossing and turning in bed, paranoid that someone was watching me. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, all I could see was Jonny from the night he'd found me in Colorado to kill me, lashing out at me with that sharp-edged knife, his eyes flashing in fury. His brown eyes looked so dark and dangerous staring into them. Then he gutted me with the knife, spilling my blood onto the forest floor. I woke up screaming, my skin covered in sweat. If I continued to replay this memory over and over in my head, I was going to have my frontal lobe removed.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. I shot out of bed when the smell of organic coffee filled my nose. Fear rose along the hairs at the back of my neck.

A second later, I heard a banging noise coming from the kitchen downstairs. I took a deep breath and slowly approached the stairway, prepared to fight whoever had broken in. I stopped midway on the stairs to look out the small front window, hoping maybe I could find the perpetrator's car hidden outside somewhere, but the wide pathway of gravel was empty.

My pulse raced as I walked closer to the kitchen, wishing there was an alarm system installed inside this house. The banging sound continued, growing louder with each step I took.

I grabbed a steel wrench nestled in the toolbox by the bathroom hallway–left after one of the last repairs my uncle had made to the toilet–and gripped it in my hand, pointing the blunt end. I continued down the hall when I heard the banging sound again, followed by a loud crash, like metal clanging against the floor.

My heart hammered fleetingly hard and fast. I stepped through the kitchen doorway, my mouth gaping open in shock and relief when I saw who it was. I felt the wrench slip out of my hands, clattering to the floor.

Kneeling by the lower kitchen cabinet was a girl with wavy blonde hair that fell to the top of her shoulders, porcelain skin, and a heart-shaped face. Alison was rummaging underneath the cabinet sink for something, some paper towels possibly. I noticed the bottle of window cleaner lying on the floor next to her, and everything suddenly made more sense.

I stared at her as if I was seeing her for the very first time. Ali looked up when she heard me come in, her deep blue eyes locking on mine. She didn't move at first, but continued to hold my gaze, a slight smile whispering on her lips. My whole body trembled as I was filled with the strongest urge to run to her.

Ali was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires, as if you were swimming in the ocean. Her cheeks were naturally flushed with a faint rose. She was a few inches shorter than I was, with hair that shimmered like moonlight. She wore white skinny jeans, strappy blue wedge sandals, a dusty lavender cami tank top, and a light-blue zippered side leather jacket. With her cupid's bow lips and golden hair, Ali looked like an angel.

"Ali?" I cried.

Ali's lower lip trembled. "Jess."

Almost immediately, she pushed herself up off the floor and ran towards me. I threw my arms around her into a hug, holding on as tight as I could. Tears filled my eyes, and my throat ached. A feeling of comfort and safety washed over me when I realized she was really here; I wasn't imagining it.

Ali clung onto me in turn and sobbed into my neck. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you, too." My eyes brimmed over with more tears.

Ali's voice wobbled. "When I saw your note, I knew it was you. I knew it."

"What are you doing here?" I asked her.

Ali pulled away to look at me, her forehead crinkled with worry. "I could ask you the same thing."

I swallowed a lump that had lodged itself in my throat. "You have no idea how hard it's been these last several months."

"Are you in trouble? We can help you, all of us. Me, Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer."

I looked away, blinking back the tears. "You can't. He'll find me. He always finds me."

"Then we'll go to the police," she tried. "Gabriel Holbrook–"

"You don't get it, Ali," I said. "I can't go to the police. I don't know who I can trust."

"Do you trust me?" Her eyes bore into mine, intense.

I met her eyes, and I felt that sense of connection, of kinship. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was Ali. I always knew I could trust her, even after everything we've been through.

"You know I do," I answered sincerely.

"Then tell me who you're hiding from," Ali pleaded. "Who's after you?"

"It's Jonny. It's why I need your help, Ali. You need to find him so I can go back home. You're the only one that can."

She looked at me gently. "How about I get you a change of clothes first?"

I hesitated, but then nodded. A leaden, aching feeling had settled deep within my stomach.

Ali reached for my hand and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. "Welcome back."

Alison and I slid in her sleek, black Porsche–an early graduation gift from her dad she'd explained–and she turned the engine. The matching black leather seats felt luxurious, and the car smelled like lavender and fabric softener, just like Ali. She drove quickly, weaving in and out easily through the lanes. Ali always drove fifteen miles over the speed limit, something that terrified me and was comforting all at once–a feeling I knew too well from spending hours in Jonny's Volkswagen van evading cops. I didn't realize just how much the Porsche fit her until that moment.

In the car, we didn't speak for a while. Ali and I had lived separately and closely all our lives. For us, the silence was comfortable. As Ali turned onto the picturesque road by the acres of farms, she talked about her friends, the boys she hung out with, and her what her life in Rosewood was like now.

I had been hoping I could finally get away from the drama of A, but as soon as Ali started spilling everything that had been happening with her and the girls, I knew that would never be possible. This spring, Alison and her friends had each received elusive messages from someone none other than A, threatening to hurt the people they loved if they didn't listen to his rules. It took a much darker turn when A kidnapped Mona Vanderwaal, a girl from their grade, prying them deeper and deeper into danger. In ninth grade, Mona had been labeled as a loser who desperately wanted to join Ali and her circle of friends, but once Alison disappeared, that all changed when Mona transformed herself into a queen bee and became Hanna's best friend. Then two months later, A abducted the other girls, too, and tormented them in a Doll-sized house that he'd created. They found out he was actually Charles DiLaurentis, Alison and Jason's brother. Charles had spied on Ali, Hanna, Emily, Aria, and Spencer for months, revealed their darkest secrets, and set out to destroy their lives just as he believed they had ruined his.

I listened with increasing worry as Ali continued on with the story, my head spinning dizzily. She had gone with Jason and the girls last night to her great aunt Carol's house in search of proof that her other older brother, Charles, was in fact dead. Carol Ward had passed away three years ago, but Jessica kept the house for reasons she wouldn't explain. Later that night, they found a headstone in the backyard with Charles' name on it.

Ali's blue eyes had turned glassy with tears while talking about her dead brother. I wanted to reach for her hand, to comfort her somehow. The mystery surrounding Charles was new to Alison, as her parents had been keeping it a secret from her for years since he was dangerous and unpredictable.

"…and then she just started digging up Charles' grave like it was no big deal," she went on angrily. "I just don't get Hanna sometimes. It's like she doesn't _think_."

I gave Ali a skeptical sideways glance, but didn't say anything. Despite the overwhelming information of Charles' death pounding against my skull, I still couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something wasn't right. Aside from finding his grave in Carol's backyard, there was little evidence that coincided with Alison's theory that Charles was dead. Immediately, my mind sorted through the variable possibilities. The DiLaurentis family wasn't exactly known for their honesty; secrets and lies were what tore them apart. And Alison's father, Kenneth, went to a lot of trouble to keep Charles' existence quiet. Who knew what else he was hiding? There was no rational explanation for how Emily, Aria, Hanna, and Spencer could have been tortured in that Dollhouse if Charles had truly been dead this whole time.

And there was another problem–Mona had faked her own death, and Ali disappeared from Rosewood when A started hunting her. Charles could just have easily done the same. In Rosewood, no one was ever really gone.

"What?" Ali said, meeting my eyes.

"Nothing." But Ali wasn't buying it; she knew me too well.

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "You have that look."

I frowned at her. "What look?"

"The look that you have when you want to tell me something, but won't."

I sighed. "It's just given our track record of missing people, I think it's safe to assume Charles could still be alive."

"Are you saying my dad's lying?"

"I'm saying, don't jump to conclusions until you get all the facts first."

"Jess, I saw his grave," Ali replied stubbornly. "Why would my aunt put a tombstone in her backyard if he was alive?"

"Did you see a body?" I asked.

"No."

I shrugged. "No body, no death."

Ali glowered through the windshield. "You sound just like Hanna."

"Well, count yourself lucky that you found a tombstone and not a serial killer map," I muttered.

Seeming to sense my discomfort, Ali gave me a small smile. "Don't worry, I'll take care of Jonny. But first, we need to get you cleaned up."

The dark atmosphere of our conversation suddenly fell away. With my whole heart, I believed her. If Ali said she would take care of it, it would be. But then I recalled the text A had sent me just hours before I stepped over Rosewood's town lines.

 _I know your secret._

The memory of it made me shiver. I pulled my knees up to my chest and looked out the window, consumed by my own thoughts. I couldn't seem to escape Rosewood fast enough. And the shock of seeing Jason last night didn't help. I realized how stupid it was, and I kicked myself mentally for it. What were the chances that he'd even remember me after all these years, or that he'd want to? I was just a small orbit in his world. His sphere and mine wasn't close enough to even touch.

I stared stormily at the trees as they flew past us, angry at myself for feeling this way. I still felt tied to him in some way, drawn by his contagious presence. And I still got tongue-tied every time I pictured his perfect face. I was so wrapped up in Jason that I barely noticed we'd arrived at the beautiful Victorian house.

I gawked at the massive four-story home. It was painted an exuberant charcoal-grey, and had elaborate brackets and bargeboards under the eaves. And a tower loomed above an upstairs balcony, with several bay windows and turrets, adorned by gingerbread stone. A small green picket fence stood at the front, and hedges of bushes and a rock-lined wall encroached the sides of the yard that separated the DiLaurentis house from the Hastings. I wondered if that had been done on purpose.

I could see the sun glinting off the red paint of the roof as Ali turned into the gravel driveway. It was the second house from the corner on the sunny tree-lined road where Spencer and the other girls lived. The Cavanaugh's house across the street was built in the same impressive Victorian style, but none of the neighboring homes were as big as Ali's. I glanced at the group of houses anxiously, thinking the girls had to be inside somewhere.

Alison had to park her Porsche at the back of the house so we wouldn't be seen. "Come on," she said, hopping out.

As we came around the back, I could see that the house was much bigger at first glance. It had V-shaped sloping roofs and small, irregular placed windows made of sparkling panes of glass. The nicely aged chimney looked like it could have been made in the nineteenth century, and the front porch stood in turned white posts and spindles. I had never seen anything more gorgeous in my life.

Ali unlocked the back door and slipped inside. I followed behind, quickly glancing over my shoulder to make sure we weren't being followed. She led me upstairs to the old-fashioned bathroom on the second floor, her full hair flying behind her.

"Jason won't be home for hours," Ali said. "I can run you a bath upstairs."

 _Bath?_ But before I could ask, Ali started bustling around the mosaic-tiled room, running hot water into a claw-footed bathtub and poured in lavender-scented bath salts. Next, she set out a towel, soap, and shampoo for me.

"I'll lend you some of my clothes while you take your bath," she added. "In the meantime, just wear this." She hung her cotton pink bathrobe on a hook on the door and shut the door behind her.

I was left to stare at my own reflection in the slightly steamy mirror. A tall, thin girl with remarkable brown hair and plain brown eyes looked back. Just an ordinary teenager from Ohio. My tangled dark locks hung in a tangled mess in my face, and there was a red cut across my cheek. I was surprised to find it stung when I reached out to touch it with my fingers.

A cold achiness trembled through me and my muscles tingled with tension. Not knowing what to do with myself, I peeled off my grey sweater and jeans, tossing them aside as I climbed into the steaming water. My pink, sheer La Perla bra and panties sat in a small heap at the foot of the tub as well.

The sweet lavender scent swirled around me and I let out an involuntary sigh. I rested my head back, letting the heat soak my skin and the lovely, flowery smell fill my nose. For a while, I didn't think about Jonny or the new threat that was residing in Rosewood.

I scrubbed the shampoo furiously into my hair, trying to erase the events of the last few months. When I was done, I wrapped myself in the soft pink robe and padded downstairs, feeling more relaxed than I could remember.

The robe was shorter than I'd thought and it fell at my thighs, showing off my long legs. I assured myself that no one was home, and Jason wouldn't be back for hours.

But as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard movement coming from the kitchen. Frowning, I moved towards the foyer. I froze in my tracks, nearly gaping with shock.

Standing at the kitchen island table was Jason DiLaurentis, looking at a file of documents. He had the same look on his face that he always did when he was taking something seriously, with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth stretched into a tense line. Immediately, I recognized his buttery blonde hair, high cheekbones, and his bow-shaped mouth.

Jason looked up and froze when he heard me come in, staring directly at me like he was stuck in a trance. My heart instantly hammered in my chest, my cheeks flushing with color. His full, sensitive lips parted as if he was going to say something, but he didn't speak. Jason kept fidgeting and I bit my bottom lip nervously, unsure of what to say.

Those eyes. That face.

He looked even more gorgeous than I remembered, in dark jeans and a denim button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his hard and toned arms. Jason was identical to Ali, with tousled golden blonde hair and stunning blue eyes, highlighted by adorable dimples. He had grown a few inches since the last time I saw him and I could see the muscles in his back flexing with tension against the press of his shirt. There was stubble on his face, making him look even sexier.

His navy-blue eyes lingered on me for a long time–it was as if he could see straight into my soul–and when I met his gaze, Jason's lips parted. In that instant, I felt something click for the very first time, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. It was as if we were sharing a secret joke that only the two of us could understand. I felt the guarded mask I'd been wearing fall away, unable to stop it.

Finally, one corner of Jason's mouth curled up into a smile of recognition. "Jess? Is that really you?" Jason had the kind of magnetic, irresistible smile that made girls swoon without even trying.

"Y-yes," I stammered, and my insides fluttered. It had been so long since I'd seen Jason, but he still had the ability to make my heart race and my knees go weak.

"I thought I saw you last night." He held my gaze.

My heart jumped. "What?"

"In the cabin. I was heading over to my aunt Carol's when I saw you."

Flickers of the memory from last night flashed across my mind as I recalled hiding by the window from Jason and the others. I had been sure they hadn't seen me. But I should've known better than to think I could slip past Jason, I thought grimly.

"So what are you doing here?" I blurted, grappling to change the subject. As I crossed my arms over my chest, Jason's eyes moved to my slightly exposed bare chest, down to my thighs and legs. I blushed, feeling self-conscious in the short robe I was wearing.

Jason quickly tore his eyes away, settling back onto my face. I noticed patches of red had crept up his ears and neck.

"I don't know if you've heard," he replied, answering my question. "My father is suing the judge for wrongfully accusing Ali of Mona's murder from the trial. He wants me to send over the rest of the forms to the lawyer this afternoon."

My forehead creased. "Can he do that? I mean, Mona's death was confirmed to be faked."

"Does it matter?" Jason gave me a disgruntled look.

I could see the anguish and strain in his eyes, no doubt feeling trapped by his father. The responsibility Jason felt at his role in protecting his sister was so genuine that it made me that much more attracted to him.

I softened at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said sincerely. "It wasn't your fault."

My heart constricted in sympathy for him. I couldn't imagine how Jason was dealing with Ali's release from jail–not only had his sister been wrongfully accused of killing Mona, but his mother had then vanished. I was filled with the temptation to reach out and comfort Jason, not because I felt sorry for him, but to let him know that I was there for him. But I held back, keeping myself in check.

"What about you?" Jason asked. "Last time I saw you was in Philadelphia. So what are you doing down here?"

"There were some things I had to deal with," I answered carefully, lowering my eyes.

"Care to elaborate?" he teased.

I said nothing. Jason watched as I looked out the kitchen's four-paneled glass window, noting how the early sunlight sparkled onto the floor. They slid across the walls, dancing on the marble tabletop. I saw the sun shining through Jason's hair and I lifted my face up to his, as if a magnetic force was pulling me towards him. It turned the golden strands from red to burgundy wine, some extra buttery. It was as if I was staring through a kaleidoscope.

"You don't have to tell me," Jason said softly after a few moments. "I know you didn't come to Rosewood for Ali."

A fire of anger swept though me. "What makes you think you know me?"

"Because I know you only run for two reasons: when you're scared, or when you're hiding something."

I felt the anger slowly melt away. "You shouldn't be talking to me," I whispered.

"What if I want to?" He looked down at me, and our eyes met.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do," I said, but that intrigued look didn't leave his eyes.

"Maybe that's the point."

I didn't speak again for a moment, considering his words. "What if they're still happening? The things from my past?"

"It doesn't matter," he said simply. "All that matters is that you're here."

My lips twitched into a fleeting smile. "You make it sound so simple."

"It can be. If you let it."

"I don't even know if that's possible for me anymore," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

"So…how does it feel being back?" Jason asked suddenly, seeming to sense I didn't want to talk about it anymore. The realization comforted me.

"It feels like I never left." I smiled. "I like it here. It's safe."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Compared to what?"

"Somewhere I really don't want to go back to." I grimaced.

Jason's expression suddenly softened. "I can relate."

I couldn't seem to keep my eyes off of him. As he continued to stare at me, something sparkled in those blue eyes. Compelling, drawing me closer to him. Mesmerized, I sparkled back at him, lighting me up.

"I moved into the Edgewood Motel when the trial started," Jason added. "I think my father blamed me for Ali getting arrested." His mouth turned grim.

"That is not your fault," I said sternly. "Don't ever think that."

Jason sighed. "That's so easy for you to say."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You always believed in Ali. You never once gave up on her, even when everyone thought she did it." He shook his head. "I wish I had that kind of unwavering faith."

Jason took a couple steps towards me, closing the distance between us. He was so close that I could smell his spicy, clean scent. It was intoxicating. "I wanted to thank you for what you did for Ali."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "She would've done the same for me."

His eyes fell at the cut on my cheek, and they flashed an angry steel-blue. "It meant something to me. And believe me, whoever has got you so afraid, he'll pay for it. I promise."

He leveled his eyes with mine, and I couldn't breathe. His chest rose with mine, and I could feel his breath on my face and the warmth of his body radiating against mine. His heart was beating much faster than mine.

A sweet, hot electricity, jostled through my veins. It made me feel alive in a way that I had never felt before. My body buzzed with life and my heart pounded. He seemed to know what I was thinking. Now, it felt almost as if he were a part of me. An invisible silver cord that hummed and sang seemed to be connecting us, drawing us closer still. It felt so undeniably real that I could almost reach out and touch it. It bound us heart to heart, our souls entwined.

He reached out to touch the red mark on my cheek and brushed it gently with his thumb. And then Jason did something that stole my breath. He leaned in and pressed his lips to my wounded cheek, kissing it. But it wasn't just any ordinary kiss. His lips lingered there longer than he should have, and the sensation burned through me as hot as fire.

When Jason pulled away, I could only stare at him dazed and speechless. I was too startled from the feeling of his lips against my skin to move. He bent his head down towards mine, getting closer…

Suddenly, Ali's voice rang out in the hall. "Jess? Are you in here?"

We jumped apart and the mood altered. The moment was over. Abruptly, Jason's tone lightened. "I'll see you soon then."

I nodded, unable to speak. And then he was gone, leaving me to gaze after him. What the hell just happened?

But Ali strode through the room then, carrying a set of clothes in her hands. I fought to compose myself.

Ali frowned in concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, fine."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. "Jess, it's me. I know when you're lying."

"Really, I'm fine," I assured her. "It's just strange to be back."

"Well, this are for you," she said, handing me the pair of clothes. "You can change in my bedroom. And these are for the cabin." Alison handed me her brown leather Louis Vuitton bag filled with several articles of clothing of silk, satin, soft cotton, and lace. I saw a couple of shoes and knee-high leather boots had been thrown in there, too.

I looked down at the clothes Ali just handed me. The sheer, shell-pink blouse was classy and exquisite, as were the black skinny Seven jeans. And a dark navy-blue cashmere cardigan was nestled underneath. I felt my eyes moisten with tears.

Ali paused, turning her bright blue eyes on me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…I…" I trailed off, and then shook my head. "It's just…I'm not used to someone taking care of me."

Ali stared at me. "Jess, you're like my sister."

"Am I?" I felt a stab of guilt. Just minutes before, I had almost kissed her brother and now she was giving me clothes and making sure I was safe.

"Yes," she answered certainly. "In spite of everything going on right now." Then Ali smiled at me with her eyes. "When you've changed, there's someone I want you to meet."

I grabbed the blouse and jeans, and turned for the stairs. After locking Ali's bedroom door behind me, I let out a deep breath, pushing out my guilty feelings of Jason.

Toby

When I silently slipped out of bed early Friday morning, something was different.

I felt a jumble of excitement bubbling up to the surface, and it wasn't because of the bustling work environment from the police station. It was because this weekend I was going to ask Spencer to marry me. I was planning to take her away to her parents cabin for a romantic getaway, just her and me. My lips pulled up into a giddy smile at the thought.

I quickly got dressed, grabbed my leather jacket and keys, and made a beeline for the door. Realizing I'd forgotten the ring, I headed back upstairs and dug through the top shelf of my closet, hidden by a bulk of clothes. The west side of the room consisted of tightly taped boxes full of Spencer's stuff, the rest of which was still being packed away at her parents house. Spencer wanted to move out conspicuously, before telling her parents about the baby and that we'd be living here together to raise her.

I picked up the black velvet box that sat in the very back of the closet shelf and opened the lid. Inside was a two-and-a-half carat round diamond ring that was set on a simple and petite, sterling-silver eternity band. It sparkled and shimmered with every movement. It had been my mother's wedding ring before she died and now I wanted to give it to Spencer, hoping to propose to her with it.

Spencer rolled over in bed and moaned, startling me. I quickly shoved the velvet box into my jacket pocket and whirled around, worried she'd woken up and had seen the ring. But Spencer continued to lie soundlessly in my–now our–bed, her fingers clutching my vacant pillow to her chest. My heart throbbed at the sight.

I slowly sat down on the side of the bed, deliberately making sure not to make any sudden movements to wake her. I leaned down to pull the covers up to her chin and then gave her a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead, watching as the muscles around her face loosened and relaxed. Even with no trace of makeup on, long hair tangled around her face, she still looked so beautiful.

"I love you," I whispered, and walked out the door.

I quietly went down the stairs and out the front door, locking it behind me. The grey light of the thick fog clouded the road, veiling my truck window as I moved along the highway to Philadelphia.

I switched onto the busy street and drove through the fog-shrouded sea of traffic, following the line of cars. After about twenty minutes, traffic on the highway began to thin and the road cleared. Then I turned onto Walnut Street, parked the truck on the side of the street by Tiffany's jewelry store, and hopped out.

When I walked in, I paused for a moment to glance around the store. It was filled with glass, platinum chrome, and white lights that lit up the beautiful collection of diamond rings and other jewels. Tiffany & Co. was one of the best jewelry stores in town from Pennsylvania, so I couldn't imagine having the ring being shined anywhere else.

I wandered over to one of the cases, where a salesman in a fitting black Armani suit stood.

The man looked up when he saw me approach. "Are you interested in buying a ring, sir?" he asked.

"No, I was actually hoping you could polish this ring for me." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my mother's old ring.

When he took the ring out of the black velvet box, his eyes widened as he inspected the diamond. Then he handed the ring back to me and walked over to an older elegant-looking woman in a slim black business suit, who I assumed had to be the store manger, and within seconds, they walked back over to me.

The woman gave me a brilliant smile. "May I see the ring?"

"Yes." I handed her the diamond ring.

The woman examined the diamond carefully, then flickered her eyes back to mine. "This ring is in very good condition, so the cleaning should take about an hour. Would you like to wait around until then?"

"Sure," I said, smiling politely.

As the salesman went to the back of the store to have the ring cleaned and shined, the woman in the black suit led me over to a well-decorated seating area in the northwest side of the store, pushed back in the far corner by a large window. I took a seat in one of the comfortable plush chairs. A fireplace concealed by glass doors roared in front of me, speckled with gorgeous stone paneling on the sides. The woman reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of sparkling water before turning to another customer who was beckoning her about a silver necklace, leaving me to process my thoughts.

I sipped my bubbly water as the fire before me warmed my skin, thinking about what Spencer and I were going to do Friday night. First, I'd give her a beautiful lavender dress later tonight that I was going to buy for her afterwards. Then, I was going to take her out to an Italian restaurant for a romantic dinner, which was nearby her parents' lake house; and then–my favorite part–we'd go back to the cabin and I'd take Spencer upstairs to the master bedroom, where I'd propose to her with my mother's ring.

My body buzzed with happiness. I was watching the shoppers streaming in and out through Tiffany's glass doors, when I saw Hanna Marin enter the store. My head immediately snapped up.

Hanna stood out in a black sweater dress, black tights, and tall brown boots. I looked around frantically, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide. Hanna couldn't see me here, or she'd figure out what I was doing and tell Spencer. But I didn't know where I _could_ hide–the Tiffany's register counter stood against the back wall of the store and it didn't have any aisles to sneak down, just some shelves and walls of diamonds and jewelry.

Before I had a chance to make a run for it, Hanna spotted me. Her navy-blue eyes lit up with recognition, and she smiled at me, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. My limbs locked in place. I smiled meekly as I met her eyes, and waved.

"Hey, Toby," Hanna said brightly, making her way over to me. Her short, light blonde hair shimmered beneath the white lights.

"Hi," I said back nervously. I stared at a wall of diamond charm bracelets on one of the shelves.

A long, awkward beat passed. I fidgeted with the hem of my jacket. Hanna stared at the sparkling white marble floor.

"What are you doing at Tiffany's?" she finally asked.

"I, um, I was getting Spencer a charm bracelet as a graduation gift," I stammered, glancing at the charm bracelets.

Hanna seemed skeptical. "Really?"

I sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah."

My eyes darted over to one of Tiffany's promo posters by the glass case island that held all of the engagement rings. It was of a couple kissing passionately in the rain. Next to it was a photo of a dazzling diamond engagement ring with the words, _Celebrating the World's Greatest Love Stories Since 1837_ , written underneath it and the Tiffany & Co's logo. The man was dark-haired, the other a beautiful brunette–just like Spencer and I. The vision made my heart swell, and I had to swallow back the lump that had formed in my throat to stop myself from tearing up.

"From Tiffany's," Hanna said, breaking me out of my thoughts. She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

"She doesn't know I'm getting it for her," I answered. "It's a surprise. I just wanted to do something special for her after everything that's happened." A half-truth.

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, it just looked like you were…" She shook her head. "Never mind. I hope you find what you're looking for."

Hanna smiled at me before strolling out of the store. I smiled back as convincingly as I could, and breathed a sigh of relief once I was sure she was gone.

A few minutes later, the salesman called me over to the counter. I glanced down at my watch, frowning. Had it been an hour already? It had seemed less than that.

I walked back to the counter, where the manager informed me that they had shined and polished my ring to its best quality. She placed the box on the glass case. I opened it to find a now dazzling diamond ring, and the silver band gleamed against the crystal chandelier above the ceiling. It had been shined to perfection, every surface scrubbed and polished off with a sparkling finish.

I could feel a grin stretching across my face. It was absolutely breathtaking. I knew my mother's ring had cost a lot when my father bought it for her, but I had no idea how truly exquisite it was until just now. Not that it mattered. I would have given it to Spencer even if it was just a plastic candy ring.

I paid for the expense of the ring shining and walked out of the jewelry store, with the velvet box tucked securely in the pocket of my jacket, feeling happier and more alive than I'd ever been. I felt so good that I thought my insides would burst.

I lingered on the sidewalk, expecting someone to come out and tell me something had gone wrong with the ring, that this was all a joke. That Spencer would never marry someone like me. But nobody ever did.

I didn't know if Spencer was going to say yes. All I knew for sure was that she was the person I was meant to spend eternity with. My love for Spencer grew more intense every day and I wanted to continue to share that love with her for the rest of our lives. I didn't want to marry her because she was pregnant; I wanted to marry her because I couldn't imagine living my life without her. Every second, every moment that I was with her was precious and shouldn't be wasted. Life was too short. That became evidently more clear when she told me she was pregnant. And I recalled the courage Spencer had shown, from the very first moment she told me to all the months she'd dealt with this, showing an unrelenting strength that still amazed me even now every time I saw her.

I smiled as I got in my truck, struck with the realization that my forever was now starting with Spencer. She was exactly where I was meant to be.

When I returned home, I found Spencer still bundled up in the covers, sleeping peacefully. I glanced over at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The neon green glowing numbers in the dim light said it was 6:45 A.M. I'd requested time off from work today to get all the preparations ready for my weekend with Spencer. Now all I had to do was convince her to go.

I kicked off my shoes and crawled underneath the covers, snuggling up next to her, loving the way her warm body felt against mine. Spencer sighed and nuzzled into my neck.

I brushed my lips against her forehead and then started to pepper her face with kisses, brushing my lips along her eyelids, across her cheeks. I felt Spencer's pulse race, and she let out a gasp. I smiled at her reaction.

I leaned back slightly and combed my fingers through her soft hair gently.

"I was thinking," I began, and moved my lips down to the point of her chin. "We should go away for the weekend."

"I don't know," she gasped again. "Weekend getaways. That sounds a little too normal for us."

"We need to spend some time together," I murmured against her jaw. Spencer moaned.

"I got some time off for Friday through the weekend," I pushed. "We could leave right after you're finished seeing your friends." I nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Mmm, sounds tempting," she murmured.

I was getting closer. I kissed slowly down her neck, trying to persuade her. I knew what she liked.

Spencer began to moan again, louder now. I smiled in triumph. I had her.

"Okay," she breathed, surrendering. "I'll go away with you."

I grinned and eased myself on top of her, placing my hands on either side of her head. Spencer gasped. I touched the tip of my nose to hers as I trapped her against the mattress. She had no room to escape.

Then I cupped the back of her neck and slid my tongue down her throat. Spencer kissed me back in earnest, pressing herself to me. I moved my lips eagerly against hers.

Spencer lifted her legs to my hips and squeezed them tightly against me. I moaned and pressed myself closer to her in response, and she sighed.

After spending half an hour kissing, Spencer got dressed for school in a white floral blouse, rose-pink jeans, and some black ballet flats paired with a skinny black headband that pushed her luscious, full hair out of her face. It was unfair how tempting she looked.

I waited until Spencer left so I could make the rest of the preparations for our weekend getaway. With her vacation bag ready and teeth brushed, I pressed a kiss to her forehead and she rushed out the door.

Spencer

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" I asked.

Toby was driving along the long, wide country road and he _still_ wouldn't give up the details of our weekend getaway. Our bags were packed and sitting securely in the bed of the truck, along with the blankets and food we'd brought with us. We were outside the borders of Rosewood now, rushing past the town's limits and into the countryside. The successful company buildings and shops that were flashing past us grew smaller until I could no longer see them anymore. And the houses and their wooden-fenced yards were soon replaced by trees lining the road. I had no idea where we were going. I hated surprises, and Toby knew this.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?" Toby said, avoiding my question. He threw a beautiful smile towards me, and just like that all my irritation melted away.

"I don't want to guess," I said, pouting. "I want to know."

Toby chuckled, and reached over to take my small, delicate hand in his much bigger one. I couldn't help but gaze at his gloriously handsome face as he drove. It stole my breath and stopped my heart.

Toby continued down the quiet road until he turned onto an unpaved one, lined by several trees and shrubs. The entrance of the drive was isolated and obscured by tall trees, with no sign to tell us where we were. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead clear and spacious as it twisted around the pine trees.

After a few miles, the woods began to thin. I smiled as Toby pulled up to the end of the dirt pathway, realizing where we were. Cedars rose up nearby the walls of the lake house, protected by its low branches. The yard out front was large and rounded, filled with blooming lilies and wildflowers. And the sun overhead had cast a golden light across the sky.

The two-story craftsman-style lake house had been in my family for generations, but it was timeless and beautiful. It had four bedrooms, three bathrooms, its own private lake and dock, a massive master bedroom with a soaking bathtub, a restored 1800s kitchen, and Amish furniture throughout. It had been painted a warm brown and was long and rectangular. There were two square windows on either side of the second story, including the oversize bay windows below it.

I slowly stepped out of the truck, amazed that Toby would do this for me. He followed me to the back of the cabin, where I could hear the _whooshing_ of water from the lake nearby. He stood behind me as I took it all in.

The smell of honeysuckle and pine hung in the air. The ground was covered with green shrubbery and brush, and there were moss-covered stones that encircled the entire acre of the lake that stretched before me. The lake reflected the wooden columns of the back porch with its mirror-like surface. In the distance, I could see my family's old rowboat sitting in the water at the end of the fifty-foot long dock, tied up to one of the pillars by the pier.

I turned around to face Toby. "Why did you take me here?"

He stepped closer to me, encircling my waist. "It's secluded and quiet here, and I wanted to be alone with you. I've missed you."

I smiled. "I missed you, too." I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, pressing my lips to his.

Toby kissed me a couple more times on the lips before taking my hand and we walked up to the porch. He pulled open the heavy wooden door, leading me into the grand living room. Inside, a tan leather couch stood in front of the roaring fireplace against the south wall of the spacious living room, and a carpeted staircase rose up to the second floor on the north side of the cabin. The high-beamed ceilings were a cream-colored white in contrast to the dark hardwood floors and walls.

I walked across the thick carpeted floor and noticed a large silver box sitting on the leather couch.

I looked at Toby curiously. "What is that?"

He grinned. "Open it."

I lifted open the lid of the box and pulled away a few sheets of tissue paper to reveal a gorgeous lavender-colored halter slip gown folded neatly inside at the bottom. I picked it up with my fingers, noting the way the silky fabric slid enticingly over my fingers.

I gasped, feeling a slow grin spreading across my face. "Toby…it's beautiful."

"You like it?" Toby smiled.

"I love it." I kissed his check and then threw my arms around him. "Thank you."

Toby pulled out of the hug and ran his hands up and down my arms. "I thought you might like to wear it for dinner tonight. I made reservations for seven."

I brightened at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Go get dressed."

I started for the stairs, but Toby caught my arm, stopping me. "Not up there. Change in the guest room."

I frowned in confusion. "Why?"

There was a wary look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. "Just change in there for tonight, please?"

"Okay," I said slowly.

I bounded down the hallway to one of the guest rooms in the corner of the west wing. Inside stood a lace canopy sleigh bed, a tan leather chaise in the corner, and an oversize bay window facing out to the woods. Just to the left of the room was a guest-sized bathroom, oranated with seashells and starfish that had been renovated two years ago by my parents' interior designer. The bedroom was cold and smelled slightly of cedar and pine. My skin tingled as I imagined how Toby would keep me warm later tonight.

I carefully set down the dress on the bed and wandered over to my late grandpa Hastings's mahogany bureau, where conch shells lined the top in an organized row. As I touched the edge of one of the shells, a breeze from the overhead fan spun from the peaked ceiling and I shivered.

I stripped down to my undies, since the dress would show my bra straps otherwise, and slipped into the gown. It moved like water over my curves and naked chest. The satin felt soft and luxurious against my skin, and a little bit of my skin peeked out from the slits that fell open halfway up the sides of my dress. I slid my feet into a pair of black Chanel sling-backs next and curled my hair with a curling iron in the bathroom until it cascaded down my shoulders in a tumble of loose waves.

I glanced in the bathroom mirror, wondering how I could be so lucky to have a boyfriend who would plan a romantic getaway and buy me a gorgeous silky gown.

Satisfied, I walked back out into the living room where Toby was waiting for me. My breath caught in my throat when I saw him. He had changed into a black suit and a light-blue button down shirt; he looked so devastatingly handsome that I wanted to lick him. Toby seemed to have the same reaction, because he stood and blinked at me a few times when he saw me, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His eyes assessed me slowly, filling with a deep lust.

After collecting himself, Toby gave me a small, sweet smile. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." I smiled back and made my way over to him, pressing myself to him. He bent his head down to mine, meeting my lips with his sweetly. I kissed him back slowly and clutched his shoulders, feeling my head grow fuzzy from the intoxicating taste of his lips.

After a few, long seconds passed, Toby pulled away slightly, his lips only inches from my own. "We should go if we want to make it to dinner," he whispered.

I nodded and kissed him once more fully on the mouth before heading out to the truck, my hand finding his. In this cabin with Toby, alone in the middle of the woods, I felt like he was my husband and we were living in our own house together. It was perfect.

Toby drove the truck towards a small town nearby, passing by several cars on the streets with ease. He took a left and then turned into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant by the water. I looked out my window, marveling at the glowing lights of the restaurant, how magical and fairytale-like it looked.

Toby slid into an empty space and got out. He opened the passenger door for me, helping me step out. As soon as my feet touched the ground, he immediately took my hand again. My heart warmed at all the attention. Toby was ravishing me with affection tonight, more than usual.

When we reached the front entrance of the restaurant, Toby held open the door for me and I eagerly walked inside. The restaurant was filled with romantic candles and vanilla-scented incense wafted throughout the place. We were greeted by our hostess, a gorgeous blonde who assessed Toby appreciatively. She was tall and slender, with long locks of white-blonde hair that spilled down her shoulders. The woman welcomed him a little more warmly than she needed to. Irritation rippled through me as I felt the familiar burn of jealousy.

"A table for two?" she guessed in an attractive voice. I peeked a glance at Toby, but couldn't tell whether he noticed or not.

"We have reservations for Cavanaugh," he responded.

"Of course." She flashed him a smile.

I saw her eyes flicker to me and then cut away, unsatisfied by the close way Toby held me to him. His expression was unreadable as she led us to a small round booth for two of a very private section in the back of the room.

Toby helped me into the booth and slid in next to me. The lights were dimmed and romantic, and the two candles on the table framed his face.

"Your server will be right with you," the hostess said before walking away gracefully.

When Toby turned back to me, I glowered at him.

He blinked. "What?"

"Am I supposed to pretend that you're not aware of the way she was looking at you just now?" My skin boiled hotly as the anger filled me.

"Spence…" Toby tried reaching for me, but I yanked my hand away. His lips pulled up into a slight smirk. "You're jealous."

"No, I'm not," I said quickly, but I felt my cheeks grow hot. I looked away from his face, embarrassed. I was so mad that I was tingling with the desire to hit something.

Toby cupped my cheek in his hand and turned my face towards him, forcing me to look up at him. He stared into my eyes for a long time before stroking my cheek, rubbing his thumb softly across my skin. "Spencer, I _love you_. There isn't anyone else I want to be with. Ever."

My anger dissolved when I saw the tenderness in his eyes. I sighed, leaning my cheek into his palm. "I'm sorry, I just–" His lips stopped me mid-sentence. I grabbed his face and kissed him back eagerly.

His tongue flicked over mine and I twisted my arms around his neck, molding myself to him. Toby roamed his hands around my back, pulling me closer. I released a soft moan as his soft, kissable lips parted mine.

"I love you," I sighed.

"I love you, too," Toby whispered, and touched his lips to mine once more.

And then our server arrived, interrupting our kiss. The new girl l smiled a little too warmly. She looked more like a _Vogue_ model than anything with long, auburn-brown hair, and green cat-like eyes.

"Hello, my name is Rachel and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?" Toby kept his arm around my waist as she spoke to him. I felt my insides turn to mush.

"Just water," Toby told her. He looked at me.

"I'll have a chamomile tea," I said.

"I'll be back with your drinks," she assured Toby with a smile. But he didn't notice. He hadn't even taken his eyes off me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked curiously when she left.

"You," Toby responded.

I blushed a deep shade of pink and averted my eyes down at the table.

"Hey…" He grabbed my chin with his fingers and stared intently into my eyes. "Don't hide away from me. I love looking into those beautiful eyes. I love making you blush."

I smiled at him shyly, biting my bottom lip. "I know, but it's embarrassing."

"Spencer, you're gorgeous. Especially when your nose wrinkles up and you bite your lip like that…it drives me crazy." He took my hand resting on top of the table and started rubbing small circles into the back of it with his thumb.

I smiled again, staring adoringly at him.

"God, I love that smile," Toby breathed. He took my hand that he was holding and brought it to his chest, where I could feel his heart thumping hard.

My pulse raced from the contact, feeling the warmth radiating from him. He caressed my hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. Just then, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of bread rolls.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked Toby.

"Spencer?" he asked. She turned to me unwillingly.

I stared at my menu and picked the first thing I saw. "Um…I'll have the spaghetti with meatballs. And can you replace the steamed vegetables with the tomato soup for the side dish?"

"Actually, give her the big dish of spaghetti," Toby said, handing her our menus. "I'll share it with her."

The waitress took the menus and left dissatisfied.

I picked up a roll and took a hearty bite out of it, feeling my appetite coming back. "Mmm…this is perfect."

"Well you are eating for two." Toby threaded his fingers through mine, gazing at me warmly.

I played with his fingers absentmindedly. "What do you think our baby will look like?"

"She'll have brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, and your smile." He reached underneath the table and squeezed my knee. I put my hand over his, feeling a warm sensation radiate deep within my chest.

"She's going to have your eyes," I murmured.

He smiled bashfully, and then his expression became more serious. "How do you feel?"

I rubbed the center of my stomach. "I'm okay. I feel tired, but I'm happy. I just can't wait to meet her."

"I can't wait, either." He leaned in to kiss the top of my shoulder. "You're going to be a wonderful mother."

I stroked his cheek. "You're going to be an amazing father."

"You're amazing, you know that? You do beyond what anyone else could ever do and still manage to balance everything else out, and I'm so proud of you. Not just for what you do for our baby, but for everything else you accomplish every day."

Tears began to fill my eyes, feeling touched by his words. "Oh, Toby. I love you so much."

He tucked some of my hair behind my ear, letting his hand brush softly against my cheek. "I fall more in love with you every day, every hour, of every second."

I pressed my lips softly to his. He held onto my lips until I snuggled into his chest, slowly breaking the kiss. Toby held me as he started to tell me about how his mother had raised him, her kindness, how she always knew what to say, when to say it and how to deliver it. Toby had inherited his mother's compassion that much was clear, but his inability of dealing with conflicts had somehow not gotten through to him.

While I sipped my tea, he talked about the many hours Marion had spent with him watching all the different types of birds and playing lullabies for him on the piano. I watched his mouth move as he spoke, mesmerized by him, and listened to his beautiful, deep voice. It was obvious in the way Toby spoke of her and the gleam in his eyes that he loved his mother. And when I begged him to tell me more, he delved into his family history, explaining that a few of his relatives even had twins down the line.

A few minutes later, a new waiter in a white button-down uniform strode up to the table with our food. He was tall and had toned arms, with a slight olive tone to his skin, wavy-black hair, and bright green eyes. His face was open and friendly as he set down the large dish of spaghetti in between Toby and I.

"Hello, my name is Carlos and I'll be your server tonight." I heard a slight Latino accent in his voice.

I frowned. "What happened to our other server?"

"Rachel is working at another table tonight, but I'll be happy to help with anything you need," he assured us.

I suppressed a smile, relieved with the new change of a server for tonight's dinner. It seemed like the other waitress had been asked to wait another table because of her inappropriate flirting with my boyfriend. As if sensing my thoughts, Toby squeezed my hand.

"Thank you," Toby told him. "But we're fine."

"Well let me know if there is anything I can get you."

He nodded and the waiter walked away.

Toby glanced down at the full plate of spaghetti, and then looked at me. "Go on," he said. "Eat!"

I unrolled my silverware from its napkin, shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth obediently, surprised by how hungry I was. Toby scooped up a meatball with his fork and put it into his mouth as well. The spaghetti was divine. I swallowed and took another sip of my tea.

I felt Toby's lips brush against the corner of my lip as I took another bite, and I smiled playfully at him in response. I leaned in to kiss him full on the mouth, licking the tomato sauce from his lip.

We shared the spaghetti without our forks as we ate, _Lady and the Tramp_ style. Toby had exceeded my expectations of dinner tonight, showering me with gifts and affection like a princess, and I was enjoying every minute of it. We spent the rest of the evening gazing into each other's eyes longingly and holding hands underneath the table. I was so happy I didn't think it was possible for my bubble to burst.

After the waiter took away our empty plate, Toby ordered my favorite dessert, chocolate truffle cake.

I looked to Toby. "What's the occasion?"

"Us. I thought we should celebrate having a baby together." His mouth turned hard. "You've been through so much since escaping that Dollhouse."

I grabbed his hand. "Let's make a promise each other to not talk about the dollhouse tonight, okay?"

Toby grinned. "Deal."

Suddenly, the waiter came back with our dessert, a chocolate-truffle frosted cake with chocolate chips on the side. He placed the two pieces of cake on the table and left, leaving us to our dessert.

I could already feel my mouth watering. It looked so good. I stabbed a big chunk out of it with my fork and took a bite. I closed my eyes and sighed in content.

"How is it?" Toby asked.

"It's wonderful," I said, smiling. "Just like everything else tonight."

He beamed in delight and kissed my cheek. "I was hoping you would say that."

I smiled hugely, loving all the affection Toby was giving me. I rolled the chocolate over my tongue, savoring every bite. I wondered if it was the cake that tasted so heavenly, or the boy who had given it to me.

Toby speared some cake with his fork and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

When we were both finished, he kissed my hair. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," I said, even though I wasn't ready to leave his arms just yet. But I was grateful for the weekend that we'd be spending alone time together.

Suddenly, Toby slid his hand up my thigh, moving the dress up to my waist. A little bit of my underwear peeked through the silk of my dress, but I didn't care who was watching.

I moaned as I crushed my body to his and tugged at his hair, kissing him aggressively. My mouth had a mind of its own, biting and sucking on Toby's lips like I would lose air without his oxygen. I wanted to make love to him so badly it was making my body ache.

Toby gently squeezed my thigh and brought it up to his lap, stroking and rubbing it sexually. The movement made me sigh against his lips. He captured my mouth again, taking mouthfuls of my lips. Toby rolled his tongue languidly across mine, twisting it with a hungry passion that made me grab at his clothes wildly.

Toby moved his hand further up my thigh and squeezed my butt, tracing the lace of my panties as if he was going to take them of. In a moment of passion, he pinned me against the booth and kissed my neck nice and slowly. I tilted my head back and moaned softly, parting my mouth wide in pleasure. I submitted to him, sinking against the padded booth as he kissed my body. Until we both came to our senses and stopped.

We broke away, breathing hard. The corners of Toby's lips turned up into a teasing smile. "Still think I'm into her?"

"No," I gasped, and smashed my mouth back onto his. Toby sucked on my tongue for a long time, then slipped beneath my jaw, kissing me. He moved down to my chest, and I gasped.

I didn't want to stop, not for a minute. Toby reluctantly pulled away from me and stared longingly into my eyes, seeming to feel the same way I did.

Without taking his eyes off mine, he flagged down the waiter for the check. Toby paid with cash, not bothering to take the change. He tucked the bills inside the small black leather folder the waiter had given us and handed it back to him.

"Thanks. Keep the change." Toby smiled at him politely and then stood up, holding out his hand for me.

I took Toby's outstretched hand and let him slowly pull me down from the table, my body still vibrating from our steamy exchange just now.

The waiter smiled at us. "Have a nice evening."

Toby slid his arm around my waist as we walked back to the truck, keeping me close to him. I beamed up at him happily.

When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me, shutting it behind me. I gently rubbed my belly bump, sighing as Toby stepped inside. There were many other ways I could have handled my decision about the baby. The first option was to 'take care of it,' but just the thought of my baby–Toby's baby–disappearing, gripped me in despair. And so the second option, which was to give her up for adoption, was out of the question. I couldn't imagine a world where she didn't exist, because giving her up would be like living without Toby. The truth was, if I could go back to the day when I first found out that I was pregnant, I wouldn't have done it any differently. This baby was just as much a part of me as it was of Toby, and it was something we would face together–no matter the impenetrable forces that were trying to come in between us.

I never really had a choice anyway; fate had chosen me for this path I was now taking. And Toby had been so wonderful through all of it–taking me to the doctor for checkups, baby-proofing the apartment before I had to move in, massaging my feet and shoulders, getting me saltine crackers for my nausea, and holding back my hair when I threw up late at night.

My lower back ached as the truck lurched forward. Toby kept an arm around me while he drove north, rubbing his thumb slowly against my shoulder in the quiet of the truck. The roads were nearly empty of traffic since an hour ago, and it only took us fifteen minutes to make it back to the lake house.

When he pulled into the driveway, the sky had fallen into darkness, with the sun beyond the horizon now. I could feel Toby watching me. When I turned to him, he was staring into my eyes intensely, lingering on my face. But they were gentle, making my insides turn soft. I returned his gaze with a warm smile.

He glanced toward the windshield. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

My heart fluttered at the prospect of spending time alone with him, and I knew with absolute certainty that he was asking because he wanted to be alone with me, too.

I gazed up into his liquid blue eyes. "I'd love to."

The lake stretched for miles from across the shore, the moonlight reflecting its light off the dark water. We stepped onto the path that led down to the lake, and I took Toby's hand as we walked. The moon cast its luminous glow from within the pines in the clear night sky, big and full among sparkling stars that shimmered like jewels.

He led me out of the trees and along the gravelly sand. The place was deserted like always, as Toby and I strolled barefoot along the edge of the water in silence.

Toby looked out at the waves, looking thoughtful.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him suddenly. A light breeze ruffled through my hair, and Toby tucked back the strands behind my ear. I gave him a small smile, turning to gaze dreamily at the stars.

"I was thinking about the first time we kissed."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You mean when we stayed in that cheap motel to spy on Jenna? The Scrabble game was more entertaining."

"I kicked your ass in Scrabble."

"I did not lose," I protested stubbornly. "You cheated. I don't know how, but you did."

He smirked at the determination in my voice. "Why can't you just admit that I beat you?"

"I don't do defeat."

Toby smiled. "I know. That's one of the things I love about you. Your tenacity, your…"

"Abrasiveness," I quipped.

"You never give up."

I squeezed his hand. It felt so warm and secure holding mine. I never wanted to let go of it; our fingers fit together perfectly–effortlessly entwined, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Toby made me feel safe.

"That's when I knew I was falling for you," he continued. "The moment I kissed you outside our motel room, I just knew I was already completely and hopelessly in love with you."

In the darkness, my skin prickled with electricity. It was hard to resist the temptation of kissing him right then and there. I could hear the soft crashing of the waves nearby as they rolled up the shore.

I turned away and bit my lip, hoping to distract myself from him. I couldn't let myself lose control with Toby tonight. "It's so beautiful out here at night. It looks so different in the daytime."

"It is." He met my eyes, as if he were having the same thoughts about me.

Toby stopped to pick up a seashell from the sand. On one side, it was pearl-white, curving smoothly along the edges. Then he turned it over, and the other side revealed a bright blue swirling with pale pink and shimmering oranges, sparkling in the moonlight. It was beautiful.

After examining it for a moment, Toby pressed it into my palm, closing my fingers around it. As he placed it into my hand, I felt a satisfying jolt quiver through my hand. "I want you to keep this. That way I'll always be with you, even when I'm far away from you. If you're ever scared or whenever you feel alone, hold on to it and think of me."

I stared up at him, extremely aware of his hand covering mine, hardly breathing. His eyes reflected the color of the shell and I could feel his breath on my skin, the warmth of his body lighting me up. I ached to touch him. He gazed back at me, seeming to intuit my thoughts and feelings. He was so close that I could feel him.

"Do I make a wish?" I teased, but my voice was barely above a whisper, giving me away.

"Maybe." Toby laced his fingers back through mine and we began to stroll again. Abruptly, his mouth turned grim, his thoughts seeming to have drifted off someplace else.

I looked to where he was staring at intently and noticed the small, weeping willow tree that stood northwest inside the garden just by the woods. I watched him carefully, puzzling over what was bothering him as he looked at the tree, seeing the sadness in his eyes for the first time tonight. No one else knew Toby the way I did. No one saw him like I did, so I always knew when something was wrong.

"Do you remember when you were asking about my mother earlier?" he finally asked after a beat.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"My mom was the most amazing person. She was kind and genuine…the kind of person who made you feel happier just by being in the same room with her. She had this real bright spirit that you couldn't help but smile along with her." Toby paused, glancing over at the water. "Before she died, I came to see her. It had been raining and it was dark. On my way to my mother's room, I felt like someone had been following me. I should have been paying more attention. At the time I thought I was just being paranoid, but now…"

He shook his head and drew in a deep breath, struggling with his words.

I studied him, frowning. "You think that Bethany was following you?"

Bethany Young was a teenage patient at Radley before her dead body had been found in the half-dug hole of the DiLaurentis' backyard, the same night that Alison disappeared, and also the last person who saw Marion Cavanaugh alive. But before Ali had been discovered alive and in hiding for the last three and a half years, Mrs. DiLaurentis covered up Marion's death as a suicide, claiming that a disturbed patient had seen her jump from the two-story window and supposedly killed herself. Toby and I were convinced that someone had _murdered_ her, and so we started looking into Radley Sanitarium to uncover the disturbing truth about what really happened to his mom to prove that she didn't kill herself. But when Toby had gone to see her old doctor, Dr. Palmer, at a medical clinic in Saratoga, he reminded him to tell his mother to stay away from a blonde that had visited her at Radley. There was something wrong with the air around her, he'd warned.

The problem was, Toby never got to find out what Dr. Palmer knew about Marion; he'd been suffering from dementia and therefore wasn't a reliable source. As Toby combed through clues that A had been sending him about his mother's death, I realized there was only one person who could have done it–CeCe Drake, Alison's old friend and mentor. But _had_ CeCe really killed Toby's mother at Radley? Or had it been someone else? What could CeCe have against Toby's mom?

I'd made a promise to Toby that I would help him find out the truth about what really happened to his mother, and it was one I intended to keep no matter what. Then it would finally be over, and Toby and I could have the life together that we've always wanted.

"I don't know," Toby responded, pulling me out of my thoughts. "But when I talked to my mom, she seemed…scared. She kept talking about not feeling well. At first I thought she was talking about being sick. But then a week later, Radley called my dad and…" Toby swallowed, choking on his words. "And they told us that my mother had committed suicide. She had jumped from the second-story window from her room that night. My mom died instantly. I would have done _anything_ for her. But she wouldn't even tell me the truth. She didn't even say goodbye."

I touched his cheek. "You know your mom didn't kill herself. She wouldn't just leave you like that. We're going to find out what really happened to her."

"I know," he said quietly. Tears trickled down his cheeks. "It was so hard to be in the church that day. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry. And after that, I never wanted to be at another funeral again. When my mother died, my dad was…different. He became cold and distant, and lost any connection to me."

Seeing the pain and anguish in his twisted expression made my heart constrict. "I'm so sorry." I leaned forward and kissed his lips, lingering them there for a second longer. "I wish that you hadn't gone through all that alone."

Toby squeezed my hand. "I wish I had met you a year earlier."

I held onto his hand tightly, loving how soft they felt against mine. "Me, too."

"Your childhood was probably a lot more normal than mine was," he commented.

I stifled a laugh. "Don't count on it. Most of my childhood consisted of fighting with Melissa and my parents favoriting her over me."

"At least you didn't have to spend most of it in and out of hospitals, worrying about whether your mother was going to be okay again."

I felt a surge of remorse. "That doesn't sound fun. I'm sorry, that doesn't even compare to what you went through."

"Don't be. I want to hear about your life as a kid."

"I don't think it would be very interesting."

His eyes turned very gentle. "On the first day of seventh grade, you were wearing a red dress with stockings up to your knees. And you had buttercups in your hair, twisted in its half-braids. You looked so pretty."

I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned to him, caught off guard. "You remember that? But that was way back when we were kids."

He dropped his face to level his eyes with mine. "I saw you. You were walking to school with Emily and Alison when you ran into me."

"You saw me?" Heat flooded my face, but I couldn't help but feel flattered.

Toby nodded and gave me an amused smirk. "You didn't even notice me. Your eyes were always glued to your books."

"I think you were mistaken," I said quietly. "Alison was the prettier one."

"No, you were prettier," he disagreed. "I've always thought so. I used to watch you from across the playground at lunch, trying to come up with the courage to finally talk to you, but every time I saw you my heart raced and I couldn't move."

"You did?"

"Of course. I liked you from the very first moment I saw you."

I touched my hands to his face, astonished that I could love Toby any more than I already did. "I love you."

"I know. I love you, too." On instinct, he pulled me gently against his chest.

"So tell me," he whispered in my ear teasingly. "Did Spencer Hastings ever have any other hobbies besides reading books?"

I smiled sheepishly, shifting slightly in his arms. "Well, I did play the piano. I used to play all the time, but I don't as much anymore. Melissa and I used to play four-handed pieces."

"Why'd you stop?"

I sighed. "I don't know. When Melissa and I were younger, we used to play the piano for hours. And when it was time for bed, I always sobbed and begged my parents to let me play for a little bit longer."

"I'd like to hear you play."

I looked up, noticing the moonlight shining in his eyes.

Toby inclined his head toward the weeping willow tree, sensing I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "My mom loved the outdoors. She used to take me to this meadow where the weeping willow trees would grow during the spring, and we'd spend hours watching all the birds together."

I listened as he went on to talk about his mother, smiling at the stories of how he spent his weekends with her. Eventually, we neared the cabin, and as we moved towards the dock, we settled onto the edge by the water. Toby wrapped his arms around me as I leaned into him and rested my head against his chest, feeling a surge of pleasure. He drew me closer, brushing his fingers over my stomach. Our feet dangled over the edge of the dock; the feeling of him holding me so close and the smell of his scent instantly brought me at ease.

We lay there for a while, just simply holding each other. We were completely alone. The full moon shone brightly above us among the cloak of darkness.

Toby pulled me into his lap, his lips at my ear. "You're so pretty," he whispered softly.

Then he did the most incredible thing. He reached out and gently squeezed my belly, rubbing the bump. I smiled up at him, my heart feeling full. Abruptly, a shooting star raced overhead, and we both looked up into the sky to watch as it passed.

I turned to Toby. "What did you wish for?"

"It already came true," he whispered back. His eyes were intense as they locked onto mine.

I couldn't move, transfixed. For once, I was at a loss for words.

Toby raised my hand to his chest as he held me in his lap, where his heart beat fast and strong. I stared back at him, wondering how on earth I had gotten so lucky to fall in love with a person like him. Toby tightened his arm from around my back and I sunk into him, kissing me beneath the full moon.

After a few long moments, we headed back toward the lake house. We made our way over to the soft apple-green grass, then followed the pathway of brush to the front of the house.

Toby pulled open the wooden door and nodded towards the stairs inside. "C'mon, I have something to show you."

I stared at him. "What is it?"

He smiled with a knowing glint in his eye. "Come in and I'll show you."

In one swift motion, Toby swept me up into his arms and carried me upstairs. He walked down the hallway paved in pink rose pedals that led to the master bedroom. Toby set me down, and I gasped.

The room smelled like vanilla and roses, and the King-size bed was sprinkled with romantic red rose pedals. Right above it, a lavender-colored canopy flowed over the pillows in a wave of sparkles, and sheer white soft curtains billowed by the sliding glass door on the west wing.

Several candles were lit everywhere in the dim room. The floor was covered with a thick, crisp white soft carpet, and the walls were painted in a rich, dark red. The soft light reflected by the Candlelabra candle-style lamps looked inviting against the seductive black satin comforter of the bed. On the southern side of the room was a fireplace wall, where real logs crackled inside. The bedroom oozed with seduction and privacy.

Then I looked to the dozen of enormous luscious, fiery-red fluffy pillows that were assorted on the master bed and saw a familiar raised, mahogany-wooden Scrabble deluxe game board sitting in the center. It was the same Scrabble board that I'd gotten Toby for our anniversary six months ago.

I stepped closer to the bed and looked at the front of the Scrabble cabinet, where a stamped gold plate read: _For T – My safe place to land. Always your girl, S._ I brushed my fingers over it, smiling at the memory. I'd personalized the Scrabble board on the day of our anniversary in November, hoping to give it to Toby to remind him of the first day we'd kissed. Of when we first fell in love. But then a glittering light caught my eye. I looked at the top of the board and froze. Several light-wooden letter tiles were put into three separate rows across the Scrabble board. The gold letters spelled out WILL YOU MARRY ME, with a beautiful, simple diamond ring used as the O.

I turned, and Toby was kneeling down on one knee in front of me, holding out the ring in between his fingers. My heart skipped several beats.

 _Oh my god._ I stared at him, dazed and disbelieving, utterly speechless. I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. All I could do was stand there in shock.

"Toby," I breathed.

He looked up at me, his blue eyes soft. "Spencer, for most of my life, I've felt alone and disconnected from people. But then I met you. You showed me what it truly felt like to be loved and helped me feel happy for the first time since my mother passed. I love you and I can't live without you. And if you let me, I promise I will always be your safe place to land for every single moment of forever till the end of time. Spencer Hastings, will you marry me?"

I felt my eyes well up with tears, filled with several emotions all at once. Toby was my heart and soul; he was everything to me.

I smiled as the tears ran down my cheeks. Finally, I managed to whisper, "Yes. A million times yes."

Toby grinned. My heart lifted when he took my left hand in his to slide the ring on my third finger. It sparkled in the dim light. The glittering diamond had to be at least nine-in-a-half carat, set with a flawless sterling-silver band–petite and narrow. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.

I immediately jumped into his arms and he caught me. I threw my arms around Toby's neck as he spun me around the room in small circles, feeling happier than I've ever been. I giggled in response. Before Toby could react, I crushed my mouth to his and I was kissing him, my lips hard and passionate. And when he moved his unyielding lips against mine, more powerful than ever, the universe finally felt aligned.

Once Toby set me down, I stroked the side of the engagement band. "It's so pretty."

"It was my mother's," Toby explained, "And I want you to have it."

Surprise shocked me into place. I could hear the strong emotion in his voice.

I stared into his eyes and noticed he was tearing up with joy too. I was so high with happiness that I felt like I was floating over clouds. Toby looked lovingly back at me, glowing with the same joy.

Then he brought my left hand to his lips to kiss each of my knuckles before kissing the finger with my ring. "I'm yours."

I fixed my gaze on his. He was so close to me, sending my heart pounding. I was acutely aware that I wasn't wearing a bra, and the thought made me tremble with desire. A hot current ran through me like fire, of wildness and longing. His lips parted, seeming to read my thoughts.

Slowly, I brushed my fingers over the straps of my dress, sliding it down past my thighs until it fell to the floor, leaving me in only my barely-there black lace panties. I held his gaze, hoping I was getting the message across to him.

Toby stared deeply into my eyes and cupped my face, his breathing ragged. But he spoke in the softest, most sincere voice. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered.

"Do you want to…" he trailed off.

I swallowed deeply. "Yes. I just need to change into something a little more comfortable first."

Toby kissed my forehead before I moved to the other side of the room. I discreetly grabbed my lingerie slip set from my bag and went to the bathroom. I had gone to one of the lingerie stores in town before setting out with Toby for our weekend getaway, in preparation for our special night together.

I undressed, slipping into my sheer, lacy pink baby doll slip and matching thong. The slip was fastened at the top with a small pink bow that flowed down to my stomach, showing off my belly button. My breasts peeked out slightly from the front seductively, and thin sleeveless straps hung below my shoulders. Meanwhile, my thong rested dangerously low at my hips, where the tiny straps crossed to my rear.

The prospect of what Toby and I were going to do tonight sent an excited, hot erotic sensation through my lower navel. Being with him felt natural, right. And I trusted Toby. He made me feel loved and desired when I was with him. He had never once pressured me to do something I wasn't ready for. And when I was sure I was ready to have sex for the very first time, he had been nothing but gentle and loving with me. Toby was the sexiest guy I'd ever known, and he deserved the best for tonight.

I pumped a vanilla body spray perfume over my skin, imagining what Toby was going to do to me once we were in bed. My cheeks blazed at the thought. Next, I ran a brush a few times through my already loose waves, nervously trying to perfect the strands to make them fuller and sexier. Then I shaved my legs with my razor, being careful not to cut myself. When I was done, I took one last look in the mirror and let out a deep breath.

I stepped into the bedroom, sticking my leg out first to tease him. Toby stood in the bedroom, waiting for me. The darkened room felt more intimate with the candles flickering.

I watched his reaction as I slowly stepped closer to him. Toby stared up at me for a long moment, drinking in the sight of me, his lips parting in desire. My body trembled at the realization that he felt the same way I did.

"Spencer," he whispered.

"Toby," I gasped, and fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, hastily pulling it off.

My breath caught in my throat when I took off his pants next. Toby stood in a pair of black, tight boxer briefs, tempting me with the way they rested just below his waist. He was so sexy.

Unable to control myself, I jumped into his arms and swiftly threw my legs around his waist, pressing them tightly against him. Toby moaned as his lips instantly descended on mine, our tongues dancing. I gasped and threw myself into the kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. I wanted to be with him now and forever.

Then Toby eased me down onto the soft comforter and crawled in between my bare legs. Flames of heat licked just below my navel. I ran my hands over the muscles in his back, groaning feverishly.

He slid onto my hips, straddling me. We were so close that there was barely any space between us, with his abdomen and chest pressed hard against me. I could feel all of him as he leaned his body closer on top of mine, pinning me to his frame. He captured my mouth again, tangling his fingers through my hair.

Toby rolled his tongue over mine seductively and deepened the kiss. I could feel his desperate need, ravaging with hunger. I parted my lips and sighed.

I reached underneath the fabric of his boxer briefs to slide them off. My hand moved to cup the back of his head as I continued to inch them down. Toby moaned at my touch and kicked off his underwear I could feel him grow harder against me, and I jerked my hips forward in response.

He pressed his lips firmly to mine, sipping on me. I hardened my mouth against his, soaking up the ecstasy of his lips on mine. Toby moved his hands all over my body, touching me in places that were forbidden, binding me to him. The air, thick with our desire, crackled between us, engulfing my skin with blazing heat.

I pressed myself harder to him, the intoxicating taste of his lips making it hard to think straight. Toby's lips turned more urgent, traveling down to my neck. He took his time, licking along the side of my neck slowly, savoring the taste of my skin beneath his tongue. I moaned with pleasure when he folded his lips over my neck, nibbling gently.

Toby ran his hand along the thin, pink lace of my thong, playing with the fabric. I felt his lips all over my hips and then lowered to my legs, sucking on my thighs and making me quiver. My underwear grew moist with need; he was making my panties wet.

I gasped when Toby pressed his lips against my inner thigh, sucking fiercely. I spread out my legs for him in anticipation, feeling the tension building. I wanted to make love to him so badly it hurt. I was suddenly filled with an intense and fierce _need_ to have him join this part of me, to make me whole again.

My breathing quickened as he took hold of my panties with his teeth and dragged them down. His fingers traced the thin fabric of my lingerie slip, kissing up my body until he reached my chest. Growling, Toby buried his head in between my breasts, sucking ferociously. I gasped as he yanked the slip off over my head, tossing it across the room. Then he cupped my breasts with both hands and continued to suck on them. I tilted my head to the side and moaned.

Toby reached back up suddenly to brush his knuckles gently across my cheek, making me forget for a moment that we were both completely naked. I closed my eyes at his soft touch, suddenly feeling dizzy.

We slipped underneath the thick covers and pressed our bodies as close to each other as possible. I lavished at the softness of the sheets folding around us as Toby settled on top of me, reveling in the heat of his body. It made me turn to jelly.

Caught up in our passion, I rolled over on top of him and clawed my hands into his hard, muscular chest, straddling him with my hips. Desire flickered in his deep blue eyes. I ran my tongue over my lips slowly, luring him. In that instant, he reached up and wrapped his arms around me, flipping us over again.

I wrapped my legs around Toby's waist as he took me, and then he was inside me, spreading me. I panted and moaned profusely as I felt the full length of him in me. He felt so good.

Toby inched himself in further, exploring every ounce inside me, touching every surface, every spot. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and yelped.

The silky black sheets covering us felt smooth and sexy against my skin, which rested dangerously low at Toby's waist. He heaved on top of me slowly, rubbing up against my body. This was different from the other times we've had sex; the way he was moving into me felt different. It was sensual and deep, but erotic and rough, enflaming every inch of my skin.

Toby snaked an arm around my waist as he continued to move against me, loving me in the most beautiful way–holding me close to his body as his hand stroked along my back, tracing the length of my spine. I shivered from his addictive touch, my heart pounding.

I clutched a fistful of sheets in my hand as he moved into me deep and firmly. Gasping, I moved my thigh from underneath the covers to press it hard against his hip, feeling him pleasuring me. Our breathing grew heavy, our hunger for each other carnal.

I dug my nails hard into his back and screamed in pleasure. We rubbed our bodies against each other joyfully, moaning and groaning with every thrust. It was so pleasuring and sinful and naughty interwoven into one.

We rolled around in bed, our bodies hot and naked and sweating. The sheets clung to our skin, the silky softness ravishing us with our every movements. I felt Toby thread his fingers through mine against the pillows, eventually trailing his lips along the length of my arm.

Toby brushed his lips over my chin next as he thrusted against me, and I let out another gasp. Desire pooled far below my navel, swimming in a darker place that I could have ever imagined. Grunting, Toby bent my knees back and grinded into me, moving swiftly and firmly, but careful as not to hurt me.

I leaned my head back against the soft pillows and let out a long, deep guttural moan. It only spurred him on, and he pressed his hips against mine. Toby rubbed us into the mattress slowly and sensually, making me ache. The deeper I dug my nails into him, the harder he moved against me.

"Harder!" I begged, and Toby obliged.

I pleaded for him to go rougher, to give me everything, feeling beyond pleasured by him. Obeying my pleas, Toby slid his hands sexually down to my buttcheeks and gently pushed me further into him, hardening inside me.

I moaned and bit his shoulder, and Toby yelped with pleasure. I hooked my legs around him, locking them into place as he moved on top of me rapidly, like an enthusiastic rabbit mating with his lover.

He was so excited; it was just so sexy and erotic. I slid my arms up to his muscular back, holding on tightly as I moved with him.

Toby pressed his lips along the shape of my bare breasts, moving lower until he reached my belly. My skin turned to fire as shivers raced down my spine, glistening in sweat. I moaned, but then he did something even more amazing.

Toby bent down lower and kissed my navel, sucking deeply. I spread apart my knees for him, panting hard. He was making me sweat for it. Seconds later, I felt his tongue in there, sucking and licking. My lips parted in a series of long, deep groans. After spending a few long, glorious minutes of him tasting me, I wrapped my legs around his back and squeezed, finally giving in to him.

Still wrapped in the sheets, Toby kneeled on the bed and sat back on his heels, pulling me into him in the lotus position–our favorite. The sudden movement caught me off guard, making me gasp against his lips. Toby used the momentum to capture my lower lip gently in between his teeth, sucking slowly.

I twisted my arms around his neck and straddled his knees, melting into him. Then Toby pressed his hands firmly against my shoulder blades as he pushed into me fiercely. I could hear the bed springs from the mattress squeaking as we made love.

I pressed my forehead to his, both of us gasping and panting hard. My body shook with pleasure as I took in Toby's hard, muscular body dripping with sweat and twitching furiously with restraint. I bit my lip with satisfaction. My breaths became heavier with each gasp. As I screamed his name, I could feel him getting excited.

I didn't try to fight off the hot orgasm that rippled through me. Instead, I threw myself into it. I lifted up my hips and placed my hands on top of his shoulders, thrusting myself into Toby in swift, languid movements. I jerked into him, rubbing my sweaty body against his as he moved in deeply. Toby groaned, digging his fingers into my back.

He penetrated me until he was rocking into me rhythmically. My heels dug into the mattress with each movement, moaning heavily. Toby went slow and deep–giving me all kinds of pleasure. His arms held me up as I used the strength in my legs to thrust myself up and down against him; I could feel his muscles tense with every thrust.

I buried my face into his neck and closed my eyes, losing myself to Toby. Every time he pushed into me, I pushed back into him simultaneously.

I was floating in my own world of pleasure. Toby had never loved me like this before, and I was absolutely certain that I didn't want him to ever stop. It was intense and raw and beautiful all at once.

I licked the underside of Spencer's jaw and held her body close to mine as I continued to move against her gently underneath the sexy thick, fluffy black down-comforter in the master bedroom, our limbs entwined. Spencer let out a gasp of pleasure against my cheek and then smashed her lips back onto mine. The sensation of her bare skin against mine was enough to drive me insane.

We'd been rolling around underneath the covers for hours, making love. I wished I could make this night last forever. Being naked with Spencer felt like heaven, and the rest of the world faded away and it was just me and her. It was what we did when they were completely devoted to one another, and loved each other deeply and wanted to convey those feelings in the most beautiful way. We were connecting in the most intimate way possible. It was emotional, physical, spiritual. Special.

I paused over Spencer beneath me and caught her gaze locked onto mine, only inches away from her face. Her deep, chocolate brown eyes mesmerized me. I stared at her in awe, still in disbelief that this beautiful, perfect being had agreed to marry me. I only had to inhale her delicious and sweet scent just once and I was lost in her. Instinctively, I grazed my thumb across her lower lip and pressed my mouth to hers. Spencer dug her fingers into my shoulders, whimpering with longing against my lips.

I slowly traced my lips down her neck and shoulders. We were moaning and panting hard now, grinding against each other's bodies in perfect sync. I rubbed my feet up and down her legs as we continued to make love, groaning slightly.

Spencer roamed her hands all over my back and shoulders greedily, exploring. I was so close to her that our bodies were molded together, and I couldn't remember where she began and I ended. I heaved on top of Spencer, pushing my body into her.

"Oh, Toby," she sighed.

"Oh, Spencer," I moaned, and pressed my body closer to hers.

I began to give her deeper, more steady thrusts. I could feel what I was doing to her and it felt incredible. Spencer entwined her legs around me in response. We rolled over again and now she was on top of me, breathing hard. She touched my body, and I kissed every inch of her skin from head to toe. Afterwards, I pulled her close into my arms. She nestled deep within my chest while I stroked her hair and whispered how special she was to me and how much I loved her, both of us content to stay in our little bubble.

I caught the glint coming off of the beautiful diamond ring that now rested on Spencer's finger and my heart swelled to twice its size, feeling as though my chest was about to burst. I couldn't understand how I deserved such happiness. I was engaged to the most amazing, beautiful, perfect goddess. Spencer and I would soon be getting married. Two lives joining together, two hearts beating as one.

I reached out to take her hand, tracing my thumb across her engagement band. I never wanted to let her go. I kissed the finger with the ring, then lifted her hand, kissing the sensitive underside of her palm. I didn't think it was possible to love Spencer more than I already did, but I loved her so much more every day.

Spencer lifted up her face to mine. "Toby, are you happy?"

"You make me happier than I could ever express." I kissed her forehead. "Why do you ask?"

She sighed. "I was just wondering."

I rubbed her back. "Are _you_ happy?"

She buried her face into my chest and sighed in content. "I am happy. I'm really happy. I just keep waiting for something to ruin it. Every time we're alone, something always gets in the way."

"Shhh, I love you. It's never going to happen." I pressed a long, lingering kiss against her hair.

Spencer looked up at me, her eyes shining with happiness. "I love you, too. So much." She grabbed my hand to kiss my knuckles and then nuzzled her head underneath my chin.

I leaned in closer and touched her lips, lovingly kissing the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, then finally her eyelids.

Spencer entangled her feet with mine and nestled herself even deeper into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as close to me as possible. For a long time we just lay there, listening to the steady thrum of our heartbeats. I began to run my fingers through her hair absentmindedly, feeling my body buzzing with warmth.

Spencer pressed her nose into my neck and breathed in deeply. "Mmm, you smell so good. I love your smell."

I kissed her ear. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you."

She took my hand again suddenly, pressing my palm to her face. "There's nowhere else I would rather be than in your arms while you play with my hair and whisper in my ear how much you love me. It's my favorite place. You have no idea how happy it makes me."

"You changed my world, Spencer," I professed. "Ever since the moment when you first became my girl."

Spencer gazed at me as her eyes danced into mine, watering with tears. "And you changed mine. I'll always be your girl." She moved my hand on top of her naked belly, holding it gently there. "Look at this. Our baby was made from our love. You gave me something so precious, and I don't know what I would do without you. You're my hero."

I shivered, rubbing her bump affectionately. A few more stray tears trickled down Spencer's cheeks.

"Shhh…don't cry," I whispered. I pressed my forehead against hers and caressed the side of her face, touching my nose to hers.

Spencer placed her hand on top of mine over her cheek. "No, they're good tears. I just love you so much."

"I love you more than anything. Your happiness means the world to me. And if you do cry, just know that I'll kiss away all your tears." I pressed my lips to hers tenderly, wiping away the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs as I kissed her.

Spencer reciprocated the kiss, sliding her hands up my neck to my face. My heart pounded in my ears. We kissed deeply for several minutes, prolonging the moment for as long as possible.

Then I rested back against the pillows and drew Spencer on top of me. She squealed in delight as I threw the covers over us and kissed her beneath the blankets, our lips colliding amidst a series of giggles. More laughter rumbled from my chest, soaking her up like sunlight. Spencer's happiness was contagious, and I wanted to eat her up.

I was madly in love with Spencer and I knew within the deep depths of my heart that I would never love anyone else for the rest of my life.

8\. The Getaway

Jess

I arrived in Rosewood in the late afternoon. It was warm, but not blistering. I hung back when the passengers got off, waiting for all of them to leave. As I stepped off the train at the platform, I looked around me and took it all in. The massive Victorian homes, pristine green lawns on the quiet streets, an enormous, triangular-shaped chapel, the coffee shops and boutique stores that lined the streets. I was definitely in Rosewood.

Everything about Rosewood was beautiful. Even its smells were pretty, like honeysuckle and lilacs. It felt right, like the small town had been waiting for me, but with a twist of disturbance in the air.

I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder, packed with the few things I planned to take with me. I wasn't bringing much, just enough clothes to last me a week at the very least between washing and the basic hygiene. There was no sense in developing a fondness to personal belongings. If I was going to survive, I had to detach myself from my old life. I had no intention to settle here. I'd be long gone before anyone could figure out who I was. Rosewood was just a stop on the way before my next destination, though I sometimes found my thoughts drifting back to my house and bedroom, and all the things and people I'd left behind.

There was a cabin nestled deep within the woods just outside of Rosewood's town limits, far from any trail or path in the middle of nowhere. It was a small place, but it was out of the way. The cabin was built with two floors and wooden-plank walls, concealed by oak and pine trees that stretched to the mountain summit. The bathroom was small and the bedroom upstairs didn't have a closet, but it was furnished and the living room and kitchen was spacious enough to feel like home. The place was dusty and covered with sheets from years of neglect. The cabin belonged to my aunt and she'd stopped using it years ago, so there was a good chance of no one finding me there. It was isolated from any civilization, which was why I liked it.

I breathed in the honeysuckle air and noticed a coffee shop across the street. A big neon red sign hung above the window, proclaiming it as The Brew. I hadn't noticed it before the last time I was here and assumed it must have been built over the last couple of years.

The sudden twist of my empty stomach reminded me of my hunger. I glanced at the sky overhead, which was just starting to darken. Maybe if I hurried, I could grab a cup of coffee before heading out to the cabin.

I pushed through The Brew's glass-paneled front door and stood in line to order a cup of coffee to go. As I waited, I looked around the shop. Long, oak-wooden tables by the rear window were filled by kids from Rosewood High, while others lounged along on the couches and comfy chairs that were half-concealed by long, velvet curtains. The floral, fabric counter stools were all vacant, the marble-topped table cluttered with half-eaten plates of bagels and cupcakes. On the other side of the room were countless selves of books to buy ranging from literature to fictional drama, and an espresso machine behind the counter brewed two ceramic cups of steaming coffee. The place was nice, I had to admit, and it wasn't like the other coffee shops here in Rosewood that felt cramped and smelled faintly of old cheese. Whoever had remodeled The Brew must have had unique taste.

When it was finally my turn at the cash register, I came face-to-face with a guy who had dark, curly hair, deep brown eyes, and was tall and lean, but not lanky. I searched for a name tag, but he wasn't wearing one. Taking by his navy-blue button down shirt and dark jeans, I could only guess he had to be the store owner. Up close, the guy smelled slightly of Lacoste cologne and dusty old books. He looked like he could be in college, exactly the type of guy Ali would go for.

His pink, full lips spread up into a genuine smile. It was the kind of smile that made girls melt. "What can I get for you?"

"An Americano." I set my bag down on the counter to pull out a few dollar bills from my wallet.

"Just the coffee for you then?"

I glanced up at the guy from underneath my lashes. "Yeah."

"That'll be two-fifty," he said.

I handed over the money as the guy set a white paper cup in front of me. But then he looked straight into my eyes, unnerving me. As crazy as it sounded, it felt like he was staring at me as though he recognized me. But I'd never seen him before in my life.

"Hey, have we met before?" The guy continued to stare at me, looking perplexed.

"No." I kept my eyes down, trying to appear casual.

Whoever this guy was, I couldn't risk him finding out who I was, even if he thought we'd known each other at one time. I was thankful for the hood of my sweater that hid my face.

The guy frowned. "Sorry, you just…seem really familiar."

My heart hammered in my chest. _Ali_.

I lifted my cup of coffee. "Well, thanks."

"Don't mention it." He waved farewell as I pushed out the door, fighting against the impulse to sprint down the street.

Outside, the wind played with the strands of my hair and the town was illuminated only by the street lamps glowing on the sidewalk corners. I would have to walk the rest of the way there to the cabin. I couldn't be seen.

I was on the rough, woodsy countryside within twenty minutes, making sure to stay close to the wooden roadside fence with my duffel bag in tow. Cars swished by on the bumpy road and I kept my face down, hoping none of the drivers could see me.

I found the unpaved road easily, just a flat terrain of dirt and grass. The sloping path turned sharply north, then twisted abruptly southward that stretched out for another two miles into the deep tundra of the forest. It went north and then south, the way I'd always seen the lines in my memories. Just like a mountain peak.

The lines that would lead to Ali. She would find me.

Alison would have figured it out with or without my help. She was smarter than me, and she had pictures of the cabin.

It was a five-hour walk from here on foot, something I was used to after having spent a year on the run from Jonny. I felt the desire bubbling beneath the surface: freedom. To be able to go where I wanted without having to fear someone following me. The prison of that life was unbearable, to be left scared and vulnerable with no real choices. To be trapped.

I walked over a grassy hump and felt myself relax as the rambling farmhouses disappeared behind me, and I was soon surrounded by the sparse shrubbery of overgrown trees. The distance to the cabin seemed to loom miles away, but I kept my feet moving. The faster, the better.

My steps began to falter as I moved further through the forest. The muscles in my body ached, screaming for mercy, but I was tougher than that. I moved my arms and legs forward, no matter how useless they felt. I kept fighting towards an impossible goal. But if it seemed impossible, that was exactly the kind of fight you had to take on.

I lengthened my stride and focused on the trail ahead of me. I was careful to step only on the small, flat rocks nestled in the prickly pine needles covering the forest floor so as not to leave any tracks behind. I had to stay off the dirt path, make sure that I wasn't being followed. Still, I continued to watch for him.

The miles passed quickly as the sky fell into nightfall. I could just make out the dark silhouettes of trees and the shrubs, making my way over the moss-covered fallen trees and rock boulders that bordered west.

I shivered in my jacket, straining my eyes to catch a glimmer of light from the moon glowing behind the thick, bristly trees. The only sounds in the deafening woods were coming from the owls hooting from the treetops. The loneliness soothed me.

I let my mind drift to the cabin as I climbed over the dark rocks, dreaming of that place. I counted nineteen steps before reaching the end. I pushed my legs forward without a second thought.

The path lay ahead of me now, of my careful trek across the wooded preserve outside of Rosewood. The cold forest felt safer to me in some ways, mostly because the branches were thick and concealing from the rest of the world.

The dirt road continued to wind upward, until it was interrupted by another pathway leading downhill into a valley of green grass and massive willow tress. I gazed upon the sight in pure astonishment. The small, cottage cabin hadn't changed since the last time I'd seen it. It stood a few feet away, on the other side of a streaming river flowing through the trees. In the ground, a cedar-wooden picket fence bordered the yard, between the short curved gate door and the rock-stone pathway to the cabin. And then, beyond the stone steps, was the familiar arched, wooden-plank cottage door.

I imagined Jonny right now, of his reaction when he couldn't find me in town, and shuddered. I considered turning around immediately. How long would it take for him to figure out where I really was? And what would he do once he knew I had wandered all the way to an isolated cabin deep in the woods as a ploy to escape him? Jonny would find me, I was sure of it. He always did. He would know where I was. But I refused to let him know that I was weak. For the time being, all I could do was look over my shoulder and watch for him.

It was like Cinderella, but without the handsome and charming prince to sweep me off my feet. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous thought. I didn't need a hero. I didn't then, and I didn't now.

I shut the door firmly behind me, bolting the locks securely. Hopefully no one would notice that I was here. I grimaced. This was not the first time I'd run from Jonny.

The first time was about a few months ago after I'd discovered who he really was, when he'd left me and fled after the police came to arrest me for helping him steal a famous Van Gough painting at an art museum in Colorado. I hadn't realized then that it had all been a set up. Later that night, I broke into his house and found several pictures he'd taken of Ali and me, and a crime map of all the horrible things that had happened in Rosewood. Jonny knew everything. He wanted revenge for all the terrible things Ali did. And he'd been spying on Alison since he joined the N.A.T. Club that was created to watch teenage girls and record them on video. When Ali found Jonny's tapes, she threatened to go to the police with them if he told anyone about what he knew about her binding Jenna Marshall, a girl in her neighborhood who had lost her sight during a fire that Alison had accidently started. She also learned that he was wanted back in Italy for numerous petty theft, possession of stolen paintings, and sexual assault. Jonny agreed to leave silently. But shortly after she'd blackmailed him, the police scoured the entire city for Jonny in in Italy when an anonymous source turned over evidence of all the felonies he'd committed. Jonny blamed Ali for the cops discovering his true identity and made a plan to get revenge against her, which unfortunately involved getting close to me in order to reach his goal. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed the photos, his journals that documented my whereabouts, and the crime map proving that Jonny had been planning to hurt me as a twisted plan to extract revenge against Alison. An hour later, he'd found me and nearly stabbed me to death, disappearing into the night with the only evidence I had that guaranteed my safety and Ali's.

The next time I'd gotten as far as New York before Jonny found me again, possibly to permanently shut me up about what I knew about his illicit N.A.T. Club activities. I'd taken money that Ali had left for me at our secret drop off location and bought a ticket for the bus, but he'd found me within an hour of arriving in the city. He'd chased me into a back alley where no one would see me and beat me. Then he pulled out a knife at my throat. Luckily, I knew how to fight, so I kneed him in the groin and took off.

After that, it became much harder to hide from him. Jonny started tracking me obsessively and went to extraordinary lengths to find me. He was dangerous and persistent, and his instincts were usually right. Every time I ran, I made up a fake name to conceal my identity so he wouldn't be able to track me down, relying only on the money Ali gave me whenever I had to move to a new place. We always met in secret, at night where no one would think to look for us. But one day, she left me a message in our secret code, telling me I had to pick up the money at a UPS store. When I opened the package, I found a note attached to the wad of bills inside that read, _Stay safe._ An ache welled up deep inside of me. I never missed Ali more than I had in that moment.

I ran to the bus station that same night and stepped onto the first bus heading to Arizona. When I got on, I hid in the backseat. It took several hours before the bus finally arrived in the Tuscan city. The baking heat irritated my skin and my clothes stuck to my body from the sweat, but it was far away from Jonny. I found a room to rent on the far side of town, and although it was more expensive, it provided privacy and my own shower and bathroom. I stayed there for two weeks, a longer period of time than I'd ever spent in one place, and eventually moved on to Minnesota. I picked up a job as a waitress at a small diner, accumulating tip money to help pay for the run-down motel I rented by the week. I was able to save a few hundred dollars, but not enough to start over. Again, I packed up my stuff and left without bothering to quit my job. I could never stay in one place for very long. I frantically searched the bus schedule at the station and boarded the one that would take me as far as Charleston, Maine.

I was there by the evening. The constant moving around and job changing was never ending, but it was worth it as long as I could stay somewhere safe, if only for a little while.

There were times when Jason and I used to dream of running away together–of all the places we'd go. Italy was always our favorite. Jason said we'd assume different identities and sip wine at the Tuscany sunset. When I hesitated, saying we could never do that without our families noticing, Jason said we'd come up with a decoy plan. He thought it was romantic and exciting. Wherever we chose to go, Jason promised me we'd spend every waking moment together, and I had secretly hoped that meant he loved me as much as I loved him. But instead of telling him that, I just said he had no reason to run away, his life was perfect in Rosewood. And Jason would grimace, saying I was wrong. Then he told me everything about his family, how they always ignored him and gave all the attention to Ali instead, of all the lies and the secrets that tore their family apart. How Jason's father mistreated him because Jason wasn't really his son. I felt his pain and opened up to him about my absent mother and the father who never treated me like his own, only as his property. That was the first time I realized that Jason and I weren't that different.

In the upstairs bedroom of the second floor, I unpacked my duffel bag and pulled out the supplies I'd used earlier to slip Ali the decoded note on top of her car tire, alerting her to my whereabouts. Thick parchment paper, my black Chinagraph pencil, and an initial letter _A_ wax seal stamp. I'd written the message with grammatical errors so that only she would know what I meant and then sealed it with candle wax from the stamp.

Next, I started unpacking my clothes from the duffel bag and put them away into the mahogany wooden dresser. The room was spacious and cozy, but it was freezing from having turned off the thermostat for the hot summer months and there was no electricity, so there was no light anywhere in the house. And you'd have to go down the creaky stairs at night to use the bathroom at the end of the hall. The bed was shoved into the corner by the small four-paneled window, where it opened up into the encroaching forest. I had enough money to last me four days, plus the little food I'd brought from home, but that could only last for so long.

I touched the ruffle-lined white comforter with the matching oversize pillows on top. It was still neatly made, almost as if no one had slept in it. My grandmother's floral-printed quilt lay folded in half at the end of the bed. In the corner, the rickety old rocking chair from my baby days sat on the hardwood floor, accompanied by a yellow cotton blanket. The wood-paneled ceiling was peaked, with stark-white walls and a heating furnace built into the wall that was always breaking, especially in the winter months.

I sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, afraid of what was going to happen, my mind whirling. I tried to tell myself that Ali would find me soon and everything would be okay.

Outside, the sky had fallen into a dark blue, but the moonlight shone in through the window. I heard voices murmuring quietly below and looked out. Walking through the wide and twisting path of trees and thorny briar bushes at the bend was Aria, Hanna, Ali, and…Jason.

My heart thumped. I could just barely make out the dark outline of his silhouette. He'd grown taller since that last time I'd seen him, and his shoulders and arms were hard and muscular underneath his olive-green jean jacket. A soft wind rustled through the trees then, blowing a few stray golden hairs off his forehead. He pushed further into the woods, beaming a flashlight across the grassy area, checking over his shoulder to make sure Alison and her friends were still following behind. All of the girls teetered haphazardly in their knee-high and ankle boots, dodging braches along the way. Ali looked like she was shaking and her teeth were chattering, the way she always did whenever she was afraid. Hanna's cropped, pale blonde hair shone in the moonlight's bathing glow and she was holding her phone in her hand, as if she might need to call for help in case something went wrong.

About a hundred feet away was Alison's great aunt's house, before she had passed away two years ago. Jason's flashlight moved along the left of the cabin and I quickly ducked away from the window, praying no one had seen me. As soon as they disappeared into the trees, I yanked the curtains shut, my heart hammering. I couldn't keep living this way, I thought to myself. I wasn't strong enough. By morning, Ali would find my note, but then what? How would I explain everything to her?

I grabbed my bathroom bag and walked down the stairs slowly, not fully registering anything. I left the lights off and slipped through the door. I stood in the shower, too tired to move, my body aching all over. The hot water of the shower unknotted the tense muscles in my back and legs, warming my cold skin. I lifted my face into the steaming spray, letting the familiar scent of my shampoo calm my anxiety about tonight. I tried not to think of Ali coming home late at night, waiting to see how she'd react to my sudden reappearance. The thought of Alison wanting nothing to do with me as everyone else in my life had rejected me was unbearable.

I stumbled out thirty minutes later, wrapping myself securely in a towel. After running a brush through my tangled hair and brushing my teeth, I dressed for bed and then climbed underneath the quilt, curling into a ball on my side to keep warm.

I drifted off to sleep within minutes and the pain in my back slowly subsided. The room was still freezing even though I'd locked all the windows, but it was warm underneath the heavy blankets.

Despite all my fears I found myself smiling. I really did it. I'd escaped Jonny and he was hundreds of miles away. And even if he found out where I was, there was no way he'd figure out that I'd come here.

My mind continued to swirl dizzily with images of Jason, ones I fought to repress. I couldn't understand any of it. But as I eventually fell into unconsciousness, a strange image floated through my mind. I could see the two of us standing on the beach that day in Baltimore, whispering in quiet voices that only we could understand. I could see the sun shining in Jason's hair, making it look extra buttery and gold, and my face was tilted up to his. Jason smiled down at me, and then suddenly I felt the same way I did that day, like an invisible cord was pushing us together.

Something was happening. As I eventually fell into unconsciousness, a voice deep inside of me spoke. It came to me as a whisper and sounded strangely familiar, awaking me to all my senses. And a small part of me knew I'd heard it somewhere before.

 _You are connected by an invisible silver cord, one that can never be broken. Your lives are forever entwined, linked by fate._

Jess

The next morning, I woke up feeling groggy and unsettled. All night, I'd been tossing and turning in bed, paranoid that someone was watching me. Every time I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, all I could see was Jonny from the night he'd found me in Colorado to kill me, lashing out at me with that sharp-edged knife, his eyes flashing in fury. His brown eyes looked so dark and dangerous staring into them. Then he gutted me with the knife, spilling my blood onto the forest floor. I woke up screaming, my skin covered in sweat. If I continued to replay this memory over and over in my head, I was going to have my frontal lobe removed.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. I shot out of bed when the smell of organic coffee filled my nose. Fear rose along the hairs at the back of my neck.

A second later, I heard a banging noise coming from the kitchen downstairs. I took a deep breath and slowly approached the stairway, prepared to fight whoever had broken in. I stopped midway on the stairs to look out the small front window, hoping maybe I could find the perpetrator's car hidden outside somewhere, but the wide pathway of gravel was empty.

My pulse raced as I walked closer to the kitchen, wishing there was an alarm system installed inside this house. The banging sound continued, growing louder with each step I took.

I grabbed a steel wrench nestled in the toolbox by the bathroom hallway–left after one of the last repairs my uncle had made to the toilet–and gripped it in my hand, pointing the blunt end. I continued down the hall when I heard the banging sound again, followed by a loud crash, like metal clanging against the floor.

My heart hammered fleetingly hard and fast. I stepped through the kitchen doorway, my mouth gaping open in shock and relief when I saw who it was. I felt the wrench slip out of my hands, clattering to the floor.

Kneeling by the lower kitchen cabinet was a girl with wavy blonde hair that fell to the top of her shoulders, porcelain skin, and a heart-shaped face. Alison was rummaging underneath the cabinet sink for something, some paper towels possibly. I noticed the bottle of window cleaner lying on the floor next to her, and everything suddenly made more sense.

I stared at her as if I was seeing her for the very first time. Ali looked up when she heard me come in, her deep blue eyes locking on mine. She didn't move at first, but continued to hold my gaze, a slight smile whispering on her lips. My whole body trembled as I was filled with the strongest urge to run to her.

Ali was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires, as if you were swimming in the ocean. Her cheeks were naturally flushed with a faint rose. She was a few inches shorter than I was, with hair that shimmered like moonlight. She wore white skinny jeans, strappy blue wedge sandals, a dusty lavender cami tank top, and a light-blue zippered side leather jacket. With her cupid's bow lips and golden hair, Ali looked like an angel.

"Ali?" I cried.

Ali's lower lip trembled. "Jess."

Almost immediately, she pushed herself up off the floor and ran towards me. I threw my arms around her into a hug, holding on as tight as I could. Tears filled my eyes, and my throat ached. A feeling of comfort and safety washed over me when I realized she was really here; I wasn't imagining it.

Ali clung onto me in turn and sobbed into my neck. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you, too." My eyes brimmed over with more tears.

Ali's voice wobbled. "When I saw your note, I knew it was you. I knew it."

"What are you doing here?" I asked her.

Ali pulled away to look at me, her forehead crinkled with worry. "I could ask you the same thing."

I swallowed a lump that had lodged itself in my throat. "You have no idea how hard it's been these last several months."

"Are you in trouble? We can help you, all of us. Me, Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer."

I looked away, blinking back the tears. "You can't. He'll find me. He always finds me."

"Then we'll go to the police," she tried. "Gabriel Holbrook–"

"You don't get it, Ali," I said. "I can't go to the police. I don't know who I can trust."

"Do you trust me?" Her eyes bore into mine, intense.

I met her eyes, and I felt that sense of connection, of kinship. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was Ali. I always knew I could trust her, even after everything we've been through.

"You know I do," I answered sincerely.

"Then tell me who you're hiding from," Ali pleaded. "Who's after you?"

"It's Jonny. It's why I need your help, Ali. You need to find him so I can go back home. You're the only one that can."

She looked at me gently. "How about I get you a change of clothes first?"

I hesitated, but then nodded. A leaden, aching feeling had settled deep within my stomach.

Ali reached for my hand and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. "Welcome back."

Alison and I slid in her sleek, black Porsche–an early graduation gift from her dad she'd explained–and she turned the engine. The matching black leather seats felt luxurious, and the car smelled like lavender and fabric softener, just like Ali. She drove quickly, weaving in and out easily through the lanes. Ali always drove fifteen miles over the speed limit, something that terrified me and was comforting all at once–a feeling I knew too well from spending hours in Jonny's Volkswagen van evading cops. I didn't realize just how much the Porsche fit her until that moment.

In the car, we didn't speak for a while. Ali and I had lived separately and closely all our lives. For us, the silence was comfortable. As Ali turned onto the picturesque road by the acres of farms, she talked about her friends, the boys she hung out with, and her what her life in Rosewood was like now.

I had been hoping I could finally get away from the drama of A, but as soon as Ali started spilling everything that had been happening with her and the girls, I knew that would never be possible. This spring, Alison and her friends had each received elusive messages from someone none other than A, threatening to hurt the people they loved if they didn't listen to his rules. It took a much darker turn when A kidnapped Mona Vanderwaal, a girl from their grade, prying them deeper and deeper into danger. In ninth grade, Mona had been labeled as a loser who desperately wanted to join Ali and her circle of friends, but once Alison disappeared, that all changed when Mona transformed herself into a queen bee and became Hanna's best friend. Then two months later, A abducted the other girls, too, and tormented them in a Doll-sized house that he'd created. They found out he was actually Charles DiLaurentis, Alison and Jason's brother. Charles had spied on Ali, Hanna, Emily, Aria, and Spencer for months, revealed their darkest secrets, and set out to destroy their lives just as he believed they had ruined his.

I listened with increasing worry as Ali continued on with the story, my head spinning dizzily. She had gone with Jason and the girls last night to her great aunt Carol's house in search of proof that her other older brother, Charles, was in fact dead. Carol Ward had passed away three years ago, but Jessica kept the house for reasons she wouldn't explain. Later that night, they found a headstone in the backyard with Charles' name on it.

Ali's blue eyes had turned glassy with tears while talking about her dead brother. I wanted to reach for her hand, to comfort her somehow. The mystery surrounding Charles was new to Alison, as her parents had been keeping it a secret from her for years since he was dangerous and unpredictable.

"…and then she just started digging up Charles' grave like it was no big deal," she went on angrily. "I just don't get Hanna sometimes. It's like she doesn't _think_."

I gave Ali a skeptical sideways glance, but didn't say anything. Despite the overwhelming information of Charles' death pounding against my skull, I still couldn't ignore the nagging suspicion that something wasn't right. Aside from finding his grave in Carol's backyard, there was little evidence that coincided with Alison's theory that Charles was dead. Immediately, my mind sorted through the variable possibilities. The DiLaurentis family wasn't exactly known for their honesty; secrets and lies were what tore them apart. And Alison's father, Kenneth, went to a lot of trouble to keep Charles' existence quiet. Who knew what else he was hiding? There was no rational explanation for how Emily, Aria, Hanna, and Spencer could have been tortured in that Dollhouse if Charles had truly been dead this whole time.

And there was another problem–Mona had faked her own death, and Ali disappeared from Rosewood when A started hunting her. Charles could just have easily done the same. In Rosewood, no one was ever really gone.

"What?" Ali said, meeting my eyes.

"Nothing." But Ali wasn't buying it; she knew me too well.

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "You have that look."

I frowned at her. "What look?"

"The look that you have when you want to tell me something, but won't."

I sighed. "It's just given our track record of missing people, I think it's safe to assume Charles could still be alive."

"Are you saying my dad's lying?"

"I'm saying, don't jump to conclusions until you get all the facts first."

"Jess, I saw his grave," Ali replied stubbornly. "Why would my aunt put a tombstone in her backyard if he was alive?"

"Did you see a body?" I asked.

"No."

I shrugged. "No body, no death."

Ali glowered through the windshield. "You sound just like Hanna."

"Well, count yourself lucky that you found a tombstone and not a serial killer map," I muttered.

Seeming to sense my discomfort, Ali gave me a small smile. "Don't worry, I'll take care of Jonny. But first, we need to get you cleaned up."

The dark atmosphere of our conversation suddenly fell away. With my whole heart, I believed her. If Ali said she would take care of it, it would be. But then I recalled the text A had sent me just hours before I stepped over Rosewood's town lines.

 _I know your secret._

The memory of it made me shiver. I pulled my knees up to my chest and looked out the window, consumed by my own thoughts. I couldn't seem to escape Rosewood fast enough. And the shock of seeing Jason last night didn't help. I realized how stupid it was, and I kicked myself mentally for it. What were the chances that he'd even remember me after all these years, or that he'd want to? I was just a small orbit in his world. His sphere and mine wasn't close enough to even touch.

I stared stormily at the trees as they flew past us, angry at myself for feeling this way. I still felt tied to him in some way, drawn by his contagious presence. And I still got tongue-tied every time I pictured his perfect face. I was so wrapped up in Jason that I barely noticed we'd arrived at the beautiful Victorian house.

I gawked at the massive four-story home. It was painted an exuberant charcoal-grey, and had elaborate brackets and bargeboards under the eaves. And a tower loomed above an upstairs balcony, with several bay windows and turrets, adorned by gingerbread stone. A small green picket fence stood at the front, and hedges of bushes and a rock-lined wall encroached the sides of the yard that separated the DiLaurentis house from the Hastings. I wondered if that had been done on purpose.

I could see the sun glinting off the red paint of the roof as Ali turned into the gravel driveway. It was the second house from the corner on the sunny tree-lined road where Spencer and the other girls lived. The Cavanaugh's house across the street was built in the same impressive Victorian style, but none of the neighboring homes were as big as Ali's. I glanced at the group of houses anxiously, thinking the girls had to be inside somewhere.

Alison had to park her Porsche at the back of the house so we wouldn't be seen. "Come on," she said, hopping out.

As we came around the back, I could see that the house was much bigger at first glance. It had V-shaped sloping roofs and small, irregular placed windows made of sparkling panes of glass. The nicely aged chimney looked like it could have been made in the nineteenth century, and the front porch stood in turned white posts and spindles. I had never seen anything more gorgeous in my life.

Ali unlocked the back door and slipped inside. I followed behind, quickly glancing over my shoulder to make sure we weren't being followed. She led me upstairs to the old-fashioned bathroom on the second floor, her full hair flying behind her.

"Jason won't be home for hours," Ali said. "I can run you a bath upstairs."

 _Bath?_ But before I could ask, Ali started bustling around the mosaic-tiled room, running hot water into a claw-footed bathtub and poured in lavender-scented bath salts. Next, she set out a towel, soap, and shampoo for me.

"I'll lend you some of my clothes while you take your bath," she added. "In the meantime, just wear this." She hung her cotton pink bathrobe on a hook on the door and shut the door behind her.

I was left to stare at my own reflection in the slightly steamy mirror. A tall, thin girl with remarkable brown hair and plain brown eyes looked back. Just an ordinary teenager from Ohio. My tangled dark locks hung in a tangled mess in my face, and there was a red cut across my cheek. I was surprised to find it stung when I reached out to touch it with my fingers.

A cold achiness trembled through me and my muscles tingled with tension. Not knowing what to do with myself, I peeled off my grey sweater and jeans, tossing them aside as I climbed into the steaming water. My pink, sheer La Perla bra and panties sat in a small heap at the foot of the tub as well.

The sweet lavender scent swirled around me and I let out an involuntary sigh. I rested my head back, letting the heat soak my skin and the lovely, flowery smell fill my nose. For a while, I didn't think about Jonny or the new threat that was residing in Rosewood.

I scrubbed the shampoo furiously into my hair, trying to erase the events of the last few months. When I was done, I wrapped myself in the soft pink robe and padded downstairs, feeling more relaxed than I could remember.

The robe was shorter than I'd thought and it fell at my thighs, showing off my long legs. I assured myself that no one was home, and Jason wouldn't be back for hours.

But as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard movement coming from the kitchen. Frowning, I moved towards the foyer. I froze in my tracks, nearly gaping with shock.

Standing at the kitchen island table was Jason DiLaurentis, looking at a file of documents. He had the same look on his face that he always did when he was taking something seriously, with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth stretched into a tense line. Immediately, I recognized his buttery blonde hair, high cheekbones, and his bow-shaped mouth.

Jason looked up and froze when he heard me come in, staring directly at me like he was stuck in a trance. My heart instantly hammered in my chest, my cheeks flushing with color. His full, sensitive lips parted as if he was going to say something, but he didn't speak. Jason kept fidgeting and I bit my bottom lip nervously, unsure of what to say.

Those eyes. That face.

He looked even more gorgeous than I remembered, in dark jeans and a denim button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his hard and toned arms. Jason was identical to Ali, with tousled golden blonde hair and stunning blue eyes, highlighted by adorable dimples. He had grown a few inches since the last time I saw him and I could see the muscles in his back flexing with tension against the press of his shirt. There was stubble on his face, making him look even sexier.

His navy-blue eyes lingered on me for a long time–it was as if he could see straight into my soul–and when I met his gaze, Jason's lips parted. In that instant, I felt something click for the very first time, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. It was as if we were sharing a secret joke that only the two of us could understand. I felt the guarded mask I'd been wearing fall away, unable to stop it.

Finally, one corner of Jason's mouth curled up into a smile of recognition. "Jess? Is that really you?" Jason had the kind of magnetic, irresistible smile that made girls swoon without even trying.

"Y-yes," I stammered, and my insides fluttered. It had been so long since I'd seen Jason, but he still had the ability to make my heart race and my knees go weak.

"I thought I saw you last night." He held my gaze.

My heart jumped. "What?"

"In the cabin. I was heading over to my aunt Carol's when I saw you."

Flickers of the memory from last night flashed across my mind as I recalled hiding by the window from Jason and the others. I had been sure they hadn't seen me. But I should've known better than to think I could slip past Jason, I thought grimly.

"So what are you doing here?" I blurted, grappling to change the subject. As I crossed my arms over my chest, Jason's eyes moved to my slightly exposed bare chest, down to my thighs and legs. I blushed, feeling self-conscious in the short robe I was wearing.

Jason quickly tore his eyes away, settling back onto my face. I noticed patches of red had crept up his ears and neck.

"I don't know if you've heard," he replied, answering my question. "My father is suing the judge for wrongfully accusing Ali of Mona's murder from the trial. He wants me to send over the rest of the forms to the lawyer this afternoon."

My forehead creased. "Can he do that? I mean, Mona's death was confirmed to be faked."

"Does it matter?" Jason gave me a disgruntled look.

I could see the anguish and strain in his eyes, no doubt feeling trapped by his father. The responsibility Jason felt at his role in protecting his sister was so genuine that it made me that much more attracted to him.

I softened at him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said sincerely. "It wasn't your fault."

My heart constricted in sympathy for him. I couldn't imagine how Jason was dealing with Ali's release from jail–not only had his sister been wrongfully accused of killing Mona, but his mother had then vanished. I was filled with the temptation to reach out and comfort Jason, not because I felt sorry for him, but to let him know that I was there for him. But I held back, keeping myself in check.

"What about you?" Jason asked. "Last time I saw you was in Philadelphia. So what are you doing down here?"

"There were some things I had to deal with," I answered carefully, lowering my eyes.

"Care to elaborate?" he teased.

I said nothing. Jason watched as I looked out the kitchen's four-paneled glass window, noting how the early sunlight sparkled onto the floor. They slid across the walls, dancing on the marble tabletop. I saw the sun shining through Jason's hair and I lifted my face up to his, as if a magnetic force was pulling me towards him. It turned the golden strands from red to burgundy wine, some extra buttery. It was as if I was staring through a kaleidoscope.

"You don't have to tell me," Jason said softly after a few moments. "I know you didn't come to Rosewood for Ali."

A fire of anger swept though me. "What makes you think you know me?"

"Because I know you only run for two reasons: when you're scared, or when you're hiding something."

I felt the anger slowly melt away. "You shouldn't be talking to me," I whispered.

"What if I want to?" He looked down at me, and our eyes met.

"You don't know me as well as you think you do," I said, but that intrigued look didn't leave his eyes.

"Maybe that's the point."

I didn't speak again for a moment, considering his words. "What if they're still happening? The things from my past?"

"It doesn't matter," he said simply. "All that matters is that you're here."

My lips twitched into a fleeting smile. "You make it sound so simple."

"It can be. If you let it."

"I don't even know if that's possible for me anymore," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

"So…how does it feel being back?" Jason asked suddenly, seeming to sense I didn't want to talk about it anymore. The realization comforted me.

"It feels like I never left." I smiled. "I like it here. It's safe."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Compared to what?"

"Somewhere I really don't want to go back to." I grimaced.

Jason's expression suddenly softened. "I can relate."

I couldn't seem to keep my eyes off of him. As he continued to stare at me, something sparkled in those blue eyes. Compelling, drawing me closer to him. Mesmerized, I sparkled back at him, lighting me up.

"I moved into the Edgewood Motel when the trial started," Jason added. "I think my father blamed me for Ali getting arrested." His mouth turned grim.

"That is not your fault," I said sternly. "Don't ever think that."

Jason sighed. "That's so easy for you to say."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You always believed in Ali. You never once gave up on her, even when everyone thought she did it." He shook his head. "I wish I had that kind of unwavering faith."

Jason took a couple steps towards me, closing the distance between us. He was so close that I could smell his spicy, clean scent. It was intoxicating. "I wanted to thank you for what you did for Ali."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "She would've done the same for me."

His eyes fell at the cut on my cheek, and they flashed an angry steel-blue. "It meant something to me. And believe me, whoever has got you so afraid, he'll pay for it. I promise."

He leveled his eyes with mine, and I couldn't breathe. His chest rose with mine, and I could feel his breath on my face and the warmth of his body radiating against mine. His heart was beating much faster than mine.

A sweet, hot electricity, jostled through my veins. It made me feel alive in a way that I had never felt before. My body buzzed with life and my heart pounded. He seemed to know what I was thinking. Now, it felt almost as if he were a part of me. An invisible silver cord that hummed and sang seemed to be connecting us, drawing us closer still. It felt so undeniably real that I could almost reach out and touch it. It bound us heart to heart, our souls entwined.

He reached out to touch the red mark on my cheek and brushed it gently with his thumb. And then Jason did something that stole my breath. He leaned in and pressed his lips to my wounded cheek, kissing it. But it wasn't just any ordinary kiss. His lips lingered there longer than he should have, and the sensation burned through me as hot as fire.

When Jason pulled away, I could only stare at him dazed and speechless. I was too startled from the feeling of his lips against my skin to move. He bent his head down towards mine, getting closer…

Suddenly, Ali's voice rang out in the hall. "Jess? Are you in here?"

We jumped apart and the mood altered. The moment was over. Abruptly, Jason's tone lightened. "I'll see you soon then."

I nodded, unable to speak. And then he was gone, leaving me to gaze after him. What the hell just happened?

But Ali strode through the room then, carrying a set of clothes in her hands. I fought to compose myself.

Ali frowned in concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, fine."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. "Jess, it's me. I know when you're lying."

"Really, I'm fine," I assured her. "It's just strange to be back."

"Well, this are for you," she said, handing me the pair of clothes. "You can change in my bedroom. And these are for the cabin." Alison handed me her brown leather Louis Vuitton bag filled with several articles of clothing of silk, satin, soft cotton, and lace. I saw a couple of shoes and knee-high leather boots had been thrown in there, too.

I looked down at the clothes Ali just handed me. The sheer, shell-pink blouse was classy and exquisite, as were the black skinny Seven jeans. And a dark navy-blue cashmere cardigan was nestled underneath. I felt my eyes moisten with tears.

Ali paused, turning her bright blue eyes on me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…I…" I trailed off, and then shook my head. "It's just…I'm not used to someone taking care of me."

Ali stared at me. "Jess, you're like my sister."

"Am I?" I felt a stab of guilt. Just minutes before, I had almost kissed her brother and now she was giving me clothes and making sure I was safe.

"Yes," she answered certainly. "In spite of everything going on right now." Then Ali smiled at me with her eyes. "When you've changed, there's someone I want you to meet."

I grabbed the blouse and jeans, and turned for the stairs. After locking Ali's bedroom door behind me, I let out a deep breath, pushing out my guilty feelings of Jason.

Toby

When I silently slipped out of bed early Friday morning, something was different.

I felt a jumble of excitement bubbling up to the surface, and it wasn't because of the bustling work environment from the police station. It was because this weekend I was going to ask Spencer to marry me. I was planning to take her away to her parents cabin for a romantic getaway, just her and me. My lips pulled up into a giddy smile at the thought.

I quickly got dressed, grabbed my leather jacket and keys, and made a beeline for the door. Realizing I'd forgotten the ring, I headed back upstairs and dug through the top shelf of my closet, hidden by a bulk of clothes. The west side of the room consisted of tightly taped boxes full of Spencer's stuff, the rest of which was still being packed away at her parents house. Spencer wanted to move out conspicuously, before telling her parents about the baby and that we'd be living here together to raise her.

I picked up the black velvet box that sat in the very back of the closet shelf and opened the lid. Inside was a two-and-a-half carat round diamond ring that was set on a simple and petite, sterling-silver eternity band. It sparkled and shimmered with every movement. It had been my mother's wedding ring before she died and now I wanted to give it to Spencer, hoping to propose to her with it.

Spencer rolled over in bed and moaned, startling me. I quickly shoved the velvet box into my jacket pocket and whirled around, worried she'd woken up and had seen the ring. But Spencer continued to lie soundlessly in my–now our–bed, her fingers clutching my vacant pillow to her chest. My heart throbbed at the sight.

I slowly sat down on the side of the bed, deliberately making sure not to make any sudden movements to wake her. I leaned down to pull the covers up to her chin and then gave her a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead, watching as the muscles around her face loosened and relaxed. Even with no trace of makeup on, long hair tangled around her face, she still looked so beautiful.

"I love you," I whispered, and walked out the door.

I quietly went down the stairs and out the front door, locking it behind me. The grey light of the thick fog clouded the road, veiling my truck window as I moved along the highway to Philadelphia.

I switched onto the busy street and drove through the fog-shrouded sea of traffic, following the line of cars. After about twenty minutes, traffic on the highway began to thin and the road cleared. Then I turned onto Walnut Street, parked the truck on the side of the street by Tiffany's jewelry store, and hopped out.

When I walked in, I paused for a moment to glance around the store. It was filled with glass, platinum chrome, and white lights that lit up the beautiful collection of diamond rings and other jewels. Tiffany & Co. was one of the best jewelry stores in town from Pennsylvania, so I couldn't imagine having the ring being shined anywhere else.

I wandered over to one of the cases, where a salesman in a fitting black Armani suit stood.

The man looked up when he saw me approach. "Are you interested in buying a ring, sir?" he asked.

"No, I was actually hoping you could polish this ring for me." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my mother's old ring.

When he took the ring out of the black velvet box, his eyes widened as he inspected the diamond. Then he handed the ring back to me and walked over to an older elegant-looking woman in a slim black business suit, who I assumed had to be the store manger, and within seconds, they walked back over to me.

The woman gave me a brilliant smile. "May I see the ring?"

"Yes." I handed her the diamond ring.

The woman examined the diamond carefully, then flickered her eyes back to mine. "This ring is in very good condition, so the cleaning should take about an hour. Would you like to wait around until then?"

"Sure," I said, smiling politely.

As the salesman went to the back of the store to have the ring cleaned and shined, the woman in the black suit led me over to a well-decorated seating area in the northwest side of the store, pushed back in the far corner by a large window. I took a seat in one of the comfortable plush chairs. A fireplace concealed by glass doors roared in front of me, speckled with gorgeous stone paneling on the sides. The woman reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of sparkling water before turning to another customer who was beckoning her about a silver necklace, leaving me to process my thoughts.

I sipped my bubbly water as the fire before me warmed my skin, thinking about what Spencer and I were going to do Friday night. First, I'd give her a beautiful lavender dress later tonight that I was going to buy for her afterwards. Then, I was going to take her out to an Italian restaurant for a romantic dinner, which was nearby her parents' lake house; and then–my favorite part–we'd go back to the cabin and I'd take Spencer upstairs to the master bedroom, where I'd propose to her with my mother's ring.

My body buzzed with happiness. I was watching the shoppers streaming in and out through Tiffany's glass doors, when I saw Hanna Marin enter the store. My head immediately snapped up.

Hanna stood out in a black sweater dress, black tights, and tall brown boots. I looked around frantically, desperately trying to find somewhere to hide. Hanna couldn't see me here, or she'd figure out what I was doing and tell Spencer. But I didn't know where I _could_ hide–the Tiffany's register counter stood against the back wall of the store and it didn't have any aisles to sneak down, just some shelves and walls of diamonds and jewelry.

Before I had a chance to make a run for it, Hanna spotted me. Her navy-blue eyes lit up with recognition, and she smiled at me, flashing a set of pearly white teeth. My limbs locked in place. I smiled meekly as I met her eyes, and waved.

"Hey, Toby," Hanna said brightly, making her way over to me. Her short, light blonde hair shimmered beneath the white lights.

"Hi," I said back nervously. I stared at a wall of diamond charm bracelets on one of the shelves.

A long, awkward beat passed. I fidgeted with the hem of my jacket. Hanna stared at the sparkling white marble floor.

"What are you doing at Tiffany's?" she finally asked.

"I, um, I was getting Spencer a charm bracelet as a graduation gift," I stammered, glancing at the charm bracelets.

Hanna seemed skeptical. "Really?"

I sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah."

My eyes darted over to one of Tiffany's promo posters by the glass case island that held all of the engagement rings. It was of a couple kissing passionately in the rain. Next to it was a photo of a dazzling diamond engagement ring with the words, _Celebrating the World's Greatest Love Stories Since 1837_ , written underneath it and the Tiffany & Co's logo. The man was dark-haired, the other a beautiful brunette–just like Spencer and I. The vision made my heart swell, and I had to swallow back the lump that had formed in my throat to stop myself from tearing up.

"From Tiffany's," Hanna said, breaking me out of my thoughts. She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

"She doesn't know I'm getting it for her," I answered. "It's a surprise. I just wanted to do something special for her after everything that's happened." A half-truth.

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, it just looked like you were…" She shook her head. "Never mind. I hope you find what you're looking for."

Hanna smiled at me before strolling out of the store. I smiled back as convincingly as I could, and breathed a sigh of relief once I was sure she was gone.

A few minutes later, the salesman called me over to the counter. I glanced down at my watch, frowning. Had it been an hour already? It had seemed less than that.

I walked back to the counter, where the manager informed me that they had shined and polished my ring to its best quality. She placed the box on the glass case. I opened it to find a now dazzling diamond ring, and the silver band gleamed against the crystal chandelier above the ceiling. It had been shined to perfection, every surface scrubbed and polished off with a sparkling finish.

I could feel a grin stretching across my face. It was absolutely breathtaking. I knew my mother's ring had cost a lot when my father bought it for her, but I had no idea how truly exquisite it was until just now. Not that it mattered. I would have given it to Spencer even if it was just a plastic candy ring.

I paid for the expense of the ring shining and walked out of the jewelry store, with the velvet box tucked securely in the pocket of my jacket, feeling happier and more alive than I'd ever been. I felt so good that I thought my insides would burst.

I lingered on the sidewalk, expecting someone to come out and tell me something had gone wrong with the ring, that this was all a joke. That Spencer would never marry someone like me. But nobody ever did.

I didn't know if Spencer was going to say yes. All I knew for sure was that she was the person I was meant to spend eternity with. My love for Spencer grew more intense every day and I wanted to continue to share that love with her for the rest of our lives. I didn't want to marry her because she was pregnant; I wanted to marry her because I couldn't imagine living my life without her. Every second, every moment that I was with her was precious and shouldn't be wasted. Life was too short. That became evidently more clear when she told me she was pregnant. And I recalled the courage Spencer had shown, from the very first moment she told me to all the months she'd dealt with this, showing an unrelenting strength that still amazed me even now every time I saw her.

I smiled as I got in my truck, struck with the realization that my forever was now starting with Spencer. She was exactly where I was meant to be.

When I returned home, I found Spencer still bundled up in the covers, sleeping peacefully. I glanced over at the digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The neon green glowing numbers in the dim light said it was 6:45 A.M. I'd requested time off from work today to get all the preparations ready for my weekend with Spencer. Now all I had to do was convince her to go.

I kicked off my shoes and crawled underneath the covers, snuggling up next to her, loving the way her warm body felt against mine. Spencer sighed and nuzzled into my neck.

I brushed my lips against her forehead and then started to pepper her face with kisses, brushing my lips along her eyelids, across her cheeks. I felt Spencer's pulse race, and she let out a gasp. I smiled at her reaction.

I leaned back slightly and combed my fingers through her soft hair gently.

"I was thinking," I began, and moved my lips down to the point of her chin. "We should go away for the weekend."

"I don't know," she gasped again. "Weekend getaways. That sounds a little too normal for us."

"We need to spend some time together," I murmured against her jaw. Spencer moaned.

"I got some time off for Friday through the weekend," I pushed. "We could leave right after you're finished seeing your friends." I nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Mmm, sounds tempting," she murmured.

I was getting closer. I kissed slowly down her neck, trying to persuade her. I knew what she liked.

Spencer began to moan again, louder now. I smiled in triumph. I had her.

"Okay," she breathed, surrendering. "I'll go away with you."

I grinned and eased myself on top of her, placing my hands on either side of her head. Spencer gasped. I touched the tip of my nose to hers as I trapped her against the mattress. She had no room to escape.

Then I cupped the back of her neck and slid my tongue down her throat. Spencer kissed me back in earnest, pressing herself to me. I moved my lips eagerly against hers.

Spencer lifted her legs to my hips and squeezed them tightly against me. I moaned and pressed myself closer to her in response, and she sighed.

After spending half an hour kissing, Spencer got dressed for school in a white floral blouse, rose-pink jeans, and some black ballet flats paired with a skinny black headband that pushed her luscious, full hair out of her face. It was unfair how tempting she looked.

I waited until Spencer left so I could make the rest of the preparations for our weekend getaway. With her vacation bag ready and teeth brushed, I pressed a kiss to her forehead and she rushed out the door.

Spencer

"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" I asked.

Toby was driving along the long, wide country road and he _still_ wouldn't give up the details of our weekend getaway. Our bags were packed and sitting securely in the bed of the truck, along with the blankets and food we'd brought with us. We were outside the borders of Rosewood now, rushing past the town's limits and into the countryside. The successful company buildings and shops that were flashing past us grew smaller until I could no longer see them anymore. And the houses and their wooden-fenced yards were soon replaced by trees lining the road. I had no idea where we were going. I hated surprises, and Toby knew this.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?" Toby said, avoiding my question. He threw a beautiful smile towards me, and just like that all my irritation melted away.

"I don't want to guess," I said, pouting. "I want to know."

Toby chuckled, and reached over to take my small, delicate hand in his much bigger one. I couldn't help but gaze at his gloriously handsome face as he drove. It stole my breath and stopped my heart.

Toby continued down the quiet road until he turned onto an unpaved one, lined by several trees and shrubs. The entrance of the drive was isolated and obscured by tall trees, with no sign to tell us where we were. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead clear and spacious as it twisted around the pine trees.

After a few miles, the woods began to thin. I smiled as Toby pulled up to the end of the dirt pathway, realizing where we were. Cedars rose up nearby the walls of the lake house, protected by its low branches. The yard out front was large and rounded, filled with blooming lilies and wildflowers. And the sun overhead had cast a golden light across the sky.

The two-story craftsman-style lake house had been in my family for generations, but it was timeless and beautiful. It had four bedrooms, three bathrooms, its own private lake and dock, a massive master bedroom with a soaking bathtub, a restored 1800s kitchen, and Amish furniture throughout. It had been painted a warm brown and was long and rectangular. There were two square windows on either side of the second story, including the oversize bay windows below it.

I slowly stepped out of the truck, amazed that Toby would do this for me. He followed me to the back of the cabin, where I could hear the _whooshing_ of water from the lake nearby. He stood behind me as I took it all in.

The smell of honeysuckle and pine hung in the air. The ground was covered with green shrubbery and brush, and there were moss-covered stones that encircled the entire acre of the lake that stretched before me. The lake reflected the wooden columns of the back porch with its mirror-like surface. In the distance, I could see my family's old rowboat sitting in the water at the end of the fifty-foot long dock, tied up to one of the pillars by the pier.

I turned around to face Toby. "Why did you take me here?"

He stepped closer to me, encircling my waist. "It's secluded and quiet here, and I wanted to be alone with you. I've missed you."

I smiled. "I missed you, too." I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer, pressing my lips to his.

Toby kissed me a couple more times on the lips before taking my hand and we walked up to the porch. He pulled open the heavy wooden door, leading me into the grand living room. Inside, a tan leather couch stood in front of the roaring fireplace against the south wall of the spacious living room, and a carpeted staircase rose up to the second floor on the north side of the cabin. The high-beamed ceilings were a cream-colored white in contrast to the dark hardwood floors and walls.

I walked across the thick carpeted floor and noticed a large silver box sitting on the leather couch.

I looked at Toby curiously. "What is that?"

He grinned. "Open it."

I lifted open the lid of the box and pulled away a few sheets of tissue paper to reveal a gorgeous lavender-colored halter slip gown folded neatly inside at the bottom. I picked it up with my fingers, noting the way the silky fabric slid enticingly over my fingers.

I gasped, feeling a slow grin spreading across my face. "Toby…it's beautiful."

"You like it?" Toby smiled.

"I love it." I kissed his check and then threw my arms around him. "Thank you."

Toby pulled out of the hug and ran his hands up and down my arms. "I thought you might like to wear it for dinner tonight. I made reservations for seven."

I brightened at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Go get dressed."

I started for the stairs, but Toby caught my arm, stopping me. "Not up there. Change in the guest room."

I frowned in confusion. "Why?"

There was a wary look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. "Just change in there for tonight, please?"

"Okay," I said slowly.

I bounded down the hallway to one of the guest rooms in the corner of the west wing. Inside stood a lace canopy sleigh bed, a tan leather chaise in the corner, and an oversize bay window facing out to the woods. Just to the left of the room was a guest-sized bathroom, oranated with seashells and starfish that had been renovated two years ago by my parents' interior designer. The bedroom was cold and smelled slightly of cedar and pine. My skin tingled as I imagined how Toby would keep me warm later tonight.

I carefully set down the dress on the bed and wandered over to my late grandpa Hastings's mahogany bureau, where conch shells lined the top in an organized row. As I touched the edge of one of the shells, a breeze from the overhead fan spun from the peaked ceiling and I shivered.

I stripped down to my undies, since the dress would show my bra straps otherwise, and slipped into the gown. It moved like water over my curves and naked chest. The satin felt soft and luxurious against my skin, and a little bit of my skin peeked out from the slits that fell open halfway up the sides of my dress. I slid my feet into a pair of black Chanel sling-backs next and curled my hair with a curling iron in the bathroom until it cascaded down my shoulders in a tumble of loose waves.

I glanced in the bathroom mirror, wondering how I could be so lucky to have a boyfriend who would plan a romantic getaway and buy me a gorgeous silky gown.

Satisfied, I walked back out into the living room where Toby was waiting for me. My breath caught in my throat when I saw him. He had changed into a black suit and a light-blue button down shirt; he looked so devastatingly handsome that I wanted to lick him. Toby seemed to have the same reaction, because he stood and blinked at me a few times when he saw me, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His eyes assessed me slowly, filling with a deep lust.

After collecting himself, Toby gave me a small, sweet smile. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." I smiled back and made my way over to him, pressing myself to him. He bent his head down to mine, meeting my lips with his sweetly. I kissed him back slowly and clutched his shoulders, feeling my head grow fuzzy from the intoxicating taste of his lips.

After a few, long seconds passed, Toby pulled away slightly, his lips only inches from my own. "We should go if we want to make it to dinner," he whispered.

I nodded and kissed him once more fully on the mouth before heading out to the truck, my hand finding his. In this cabin with Toby, alone in the middle of the woods, I felt like he was my husband and we were living in our own house together. It was perfect.

Toby drove the truck towards a small town nearby, passing by several cars on the streets with ease. He took a left and then turned into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant by the water. I looked out my window, marveling at the glowing lights of the restaurant, how magical and fairytale-like it looked.

Toby slid into an empty space and got out. He opened the passenger door for me, helping me step out. As soon as my feet touched the ground, he immediately took my hand again. My heart warmed at all the attention. Toby was ravishing me with affection tonight, more than usual.

When we reached the front entrance of the restaurant, Toby held open the door for me and I eagerly walked inside. The restaurant was filled with romantic candles and vanilla-scented incense wafted throughout the place. We were greeted by our hostess, a gorgeous blonde who assessed Toby appreciatively. She was tall and slender, with long locks of white-blonde hair that spilled down her shoulders. The woman welcomed him a little more warmly than she needed to. Irritation rippled through me as I felt the familiar burn of jealousy.

"A table for two?" she guessed in an attractive voice. I peeked a glance at Toby, but couldn't tell whether he noticed or not.

"We have reservations for Cavanaugh," he responded.

"Of course." She flashed him a smile.

I saw her eyes flicker to me and then cut away, unsatisfied by the close way Toby held me to him. His expression was unreadable as she led us to a small round booth for two of a very private section in the back of the room.

Toby helped me into the booth and slid in next to me. The lights were dimmed and romantic, and the two candles on the table framed his face.

"Your server will be right with you," the hostess said before walking away gracefully.

When Toby turned back to me, I glowered at him.

He blinked. "What?"

"Am I supposed to pretend that you're not aware of the way she was looking at you just now?" My skin boiled hotly as the anger filled me.

"Spence…" Toby tried reaching for me, but I yanked my hand away. His lips pulled up into a slight smirk. "You're jealous."

"No, I'm not," I said quickly, but I felt my cheeks grow hot. I looked away from his face, embarrassed. I was so mad that I was tingling with the desire to hit something.

Toby cupped my cheek in his hand and turned my face towards him, forcing me to look up at him. He stared into my eyes for a long time before stroking my cheek, rubbing his thumb softly across my skin. "Spencer, I _love you_. There isn't anyone else I want to be with. Ever."

My anger dissolved when I saw the tenderness in his eyes. I sighed, leaning my cheek into his palm. "I'm sorry, I just–" His lips stopped me mid-sentence. I grabbed his face and kissed him back eagerly.

His tongue flicked over mine and I twisted my arms around his neck, molding myself to him. Toby roamed his hands around my back, pulling me closer. I released a soft moan as his soft, kissable lips parted mine.

"I love you," I sighed.

"I love you, too," Toby whispered, and touched his lips to mine once more.

And then our server arrived, interrupting our kiss. The new girl l smiled a little too warmly. She looked more like a _Vogue_ model than anything with long, auburn-brown hair, and green cat-like eyes.

"Hello, my name is Rachel and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you anything to drink?" Toby kept his arm around my waist as she spoke to him. I felt my insides turn to mush.

"Just water," Toby told her. He looked at me.

"I'll have a chamomile tea," I said.

"I'll be back with your drinks," she assured Toby with a smile. But he didn't notice. He hadn't even taken his eyes off me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked curiously when she left.

"You," Toby responded.

I blushed a deep shade of pink and averted my eyes down at the table.

"Hey…" He grabbed my chin with his fingers and stared intently into my eyes. "Don't hide away from me. I love looking into those beautiful eyes. I love making you blush."

I smiled at him shyly, biting my bottom lip. "I know, but it's embarrassing."

"Spencer, you're gorgeous. Especially when your nose wrinkles up and you bite your lip like that…it drives me crazy." He took my hand resting on top of the table and started rubbing small circles into the back of it with his thumb.

I smiled again, staring adoringly at him.

"God, I love that smile," Toby breathed. He took my hand that he was holding and brought it to his chest, where I could feel his heart thumping hard.

My pulse raced from the contact, feeling the warmth radiating from him. He caressed my hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. Just then, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of bread rolls.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked Toby.

"Spencer?" he asked. She turned to me unwillingly.

I stared at my menu and picked the first thing I saw. "Um…I'll have the spaghetti with meatballs. And can you replace the steamed vegetables with the tomato soup for the side dish?"

"Actually, give her the big dish of spaghetti," Toby said, handing her our menus. "I'll share it with her."

The waitress took the menus and left dissatisfied.

I picked up a roll and took a hearty bite out of it, feeling my appetite coming back. "Mmm…this is perfect."

"Well you are eating for two." Toby threaded his fingers through mine, gazing at me warmly.

I played with his fingers absentmindedly. "What do you think our baby will look like?"

"She'll have brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, and your smile." He reached underneath the table and squeezed my knee. I put my hand over his, feeling a warm sensation radiate deep within my chest.

"She's going to have your eyes," I murmured.

He smiled bashfully, and then his expression became more serious. "How do you feel?"

I rubbed the center of my stomach. "I'm okay. I feel tired, but I'm happy. I just can't wait to meet her."

"I can't wait, either." He leaned in to kiss the top of my shoulder. "You're going to be a wonderful mother."

I stroked his cheek. "You're going to be an amazing father."

"You're amazing, you know that? You do beyond what anyone else could ever do and still manage to balance everything else out, and I'm so proud of you. Not just for what you do for our baby, but for everything else you accomplish every day."

Tears began to fill my eyes, feeling touched by his words. "Oh, Toby. I love you so much."

He tucked some of my hair behind my ear, letting his hand brush softly against my cheek. "I fall more in love with you every day, every hour, of every second."

I pressed my lips softly to his. He held onto my lips until I snuggled into his chest, slowly breaking the kiss. Toby held me as he started to tell me about how his mother had raised him, her kindness, how she always knew what to say, when to say it and how to deliver it. Toby had inherited his mother's compassion that much was clear, but his inability of dealing with conflicts had somehow not gotten through to him.

While I sipped my tea, he talked about the many hours Marion had spent with him watching all the different types of birds and playing lullabies for him on the piano. I watched his mouth move as he spoke, mesmerized by him, and listened to his beautiful, deep voice. It was obvious in the way Toby spoke of her and the gleam in his eyes that he loved his mother. And when I begged him to tell me more, he delved into his family history, explaining that a few of his relatives even had twins down the line.

A few minutes later, a new waiter in a white button-down uniform strode up to the table with our food. He was tall and had toned arms, with a slight olive tone to his skin, wavy-black hair, and bright green eyes. His face was open and friendly as he set down the large dish of spaghetti in between Toby and I.

"Hello, my name is Carlos and I'll be your server tonight." I heard a slight Latino accent in his voice.

I frowned. "What happened to our other server?"

"Rachel is working at another table tonight, but I'll be happy to help with anything you need," he assured us.

I suppressed a smile, relieved with the new change of a server for tonight's dinner. It seemed like the other waitress had been asked to wait another table because of her inappropriate flirting with my boyfriend. As if sensing my thoughts, Toby squeezed my hand.

"Thank you," Toby told him. "But we're fine."

"Well let me know if there is anything I can get you."

He nodded and the waiter walked away.

Toby glanced down at the full plate of spaghetti, and then looked at me. "Go on," he said. "Eat!"

I unrolled my silverware from its napkin, shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth obediently, surprised by how hungry I was. Toby scooped up a meatball with his fork and put it into his mouth as well. The spaghetti was divine. I swallowed and took another sip of my tea.

I felt Toby's lips brush against the corner of my lip as I took another bite, and I smiled playfully at him in response. I leaned in to kiss him full on the mouth, licking the tomato sauce from his lip.

We shared the spaghetti without our forks as we ate, _Lady and the Tramp_ style. Toby had exceeded my expectations of dinner tonight, showering me with gifts and affection like a princess, and I was enjoying every minute of it. We spent the rest of the evening gazing into each other's eyes longingly and holding hands underneath the table. I was so happy I didn't think it was possible for my bubble to burst.

After the waiter took away our empty plate, Toby ordered my favorite dessert, chocolate truffle cake.

I looked to Toby. "What's the occasion?"

"Us. I thought we should celebrate having a baby together." His mouth turned hard. "You've been through so much since escaping that Dollhouse."

I grabbed his hand. "Let's make a promise each other to not talk about the dollhouse tonight, okay?"

Toby grinned. "Deal."

Suddenly, the waiter came back with our dessert, a chocolate-truffle frosted cake with chocolate chips on the side. He placed the two pieces of cake on the table and left, leaving us to our dessert.

I could already feel my mouth watering. It looked so good. I stabbed a big chunk out of it with my fork and took a bite. I closed my eyes and sighed in content.

"How is it?" Toby asked.

"It's wonderful," I said, smiling. "Just like everything else tonight."

He beamed in delight and kissed my cheek. "I was hoping you would say that."

I smiled hugely, loving all the affection Toby was giving me. I rolled the chocolate over my tongue, savoring every bite. I wondered if it was the cake that tasted so heavenly, or the boy who had given it to me.

Toby speared some cake with his fork and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly.

When we were both finished, he kissed my hair. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," I said, even though I wasn't ready to leave his arms just yet. But I was grateful for the weekend that we'd be spending alone time together.

Suddenly, Toby slid his hand up my thigh, moving the dress up to my waist. A little bit of my underwear peeked through the silk of my dress, but I didn't care who was watching.

I moaned as I crushed my body to his and tugged at his hair, kissing him aggressively. My mouth had a mind of its own, biting and sucking on Toby's lips like I would lose air without his oxygen. I wanted to make love to him so badly it was making my body ache.

Toby gently squeezed my thigh and brought it up to his lap, stroking and rubbing it sexually. The movement made me sigh against his lips. He captured my mouth again, taking mouthfuls of my lips. Toby rolled his tongue languidly across mine, twisting it with a hungry passion that made me grab at his clothes wildly.

Toby moved his hand further up my thigh and squeezed my butt, tracing the lace of my panties as if he was going to take them of. In a moment of passion, he pinned me against the booth and kissed my neck nice and slowly. I tilted my head back and moaned softly, parting my mouth wide in pleasure. I submitted to him, sinking against the padded booth as he kissed my body. Until we both came to our senses and stopped.

We broke away, breathing hard. The corners of Toby's lips turned up into a teasing smile. "Still think I'm into her?"

"No," I gasped, and smashed my mouth back onto his. Toby sucked on my tongue for a long time, then slipped beneath my jaw, kissing me. He moved down to my chest, and I gasped.

I didn't want to stop, not for a minute. Toby reluctantly pulled away from me and stared longingly into my eyes, seeming to feel the same way I did.

Without taking his eyes off mine, he flagged down the waiter for the check. Toby paid with cash, not bothering to take the change. He tucked the bills inside the small black leather folder the waiter had given us and handed it back to him.

"Thanks. Keep the change." Toby smiled at him politely and then stood up, holding out his hand for me.

I took Toby's outstretched hand and let him slowly pull me down from the table, my body still vibrating from our steamy exchange just now.

The waiter smiled at us. "Have a nice evening."

Toby slid his arm around my waist as we walked back to the truck, keeping me close to him. I beamed up at him happily.

When we got to the truck, he opened the passenger door for me, shutting it behind me. I gently rubbed my belly bump, sighing as Toby stepped inside. There were many other ways I could have handled my decision about the baby. The first option was to 'take care of it,' but just the thought of my baby–Toby's baby–disappearing, gripped me in despair. And so the second option, which was to give her up for adoption, was out of the question. I couldn't imagine a world where she didn't exist, because giving her up would be like living without Toby. The truth was, if I could go back to the day when I first found out that I was pregnant, I wouldn't have done it any differently. This baby was just as much a part of me as it was of Toby, and it was something we would face together–no matter the impenetrable forces that were trying to come in between us.

I never really had a choice anyway; fate had chosen me for this path I was now taking. And Toby had been so wonderful through all of it–taking me to the doctor for checkups, baby-proofing the apartment before I had to move in, massaging my feet and shoulders, getting me saltine crackers for my nausea, and holding back my hair when I threw up late at night.

My lower back ached as the truck lurched forward. Toby kept an arm around me while he drove north, rubbing his thumb slowly against my shoulder in the quiet of the truck. The roads were nearly empty of traffic since an hour ago, and it only took us fifteen minutes to make it back to the lake house.

When he pulled into the driveway, the sky had fallen into darkness, with the sun beyond the horizon now. I could feel Toby watching me. When I turned to him, he was staring into my eyes intensely, lingering on my face. But they were gentle, making my insides turn soft. I returned his gaze with a warm smile.

He glanced toward the windshield. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

My heart fluttered at the prospect of spending time alone with him, and I knew with absolute certainty that he was asking because he wanted to be alone with me, too.

I gazed up into his liquid blue eyes. "I'd love to."

The lake stretched for miles from across the shore, the moonlight reflecting its light off the dark water. We stepped onto the path that led down to the lake, and I took Toby's hand as we walked. The moon cast its luminous glow from within the pines in the clear night sky, big and full among sparkling stars that shimmered like jewels.

He led me out of the trees and along the gravelly sand. The place was deserted like always, as Toby and I strolled barefoot along the edge of the water in silence.

Toby looked out at the waves, looking thoughtful.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him suddenly. A light breeze ruffled through my hair, and Toby tucked back the strands behind my ear. I gave him a small smile, turning to gaze dreamily at the stars.

"I was thinking about the first time we kissed."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You mean when we stayed in that cheap motel to spy on Jenna? The Scrabble game was more entertaining."

"I kicked your ass in Scrabble."

"I did not lose," I protested stubbornly. "You cheated. I don't know how, but you did."

He smirked at the determination in my voice. "Why can't you just admit that I beat you?"

"I don't do defeat."

Toby smiled. "I know. That's one of the things I love about you. Your tenacity, your…"

"Abrasiveness," I quipped.

"You never give up."

I squeezed his hand. It felt so warm and secure holding mine. I never wanted to let go of it; our fingers fit together perfectly–effortlessly entwined, like two puzzle pieces fitting together. Toby made me feel safe.

"That's when I knew I was falling for you," he continued. "The moment I kissed you outside our motel room, I just knew I was already completely and hopelessly in love with you."

In the darkness, my skin prickled with electricity. It was hard to resist the temptation of kissing him right then and there. I could hear the soft crashing of the waves nearby as they rolled up the shore.

I turned away and bit my lip, hoping to distract myself from him. I couldn't let myself lose control with Toby tonight. "It's so beautiful out here at night. It looks so different in the daytime."

"It is." He met my eyes, as if he were having the same thoughts about me.

Toby stopped to pick up a seashell from the sand. On one side, it was pearl-white, curving smoothly along the edges. Then he turned it over, and the other side revealed a bright blue swirling with pale pink and shimmering oranges, sparkling in the moonlight. It was beautiful.

After examining it for a moment, Toby pressed it into my palm, closing my fingers around it. As he placed it into my hand, I felt a satisfying jolt quiver through my hand. "I want you to keep this. That way I'll always be with you, even when I'm far away from you. If you're ever scared or whenever you feel alone, hold on to it and think of me."

I stared up at him, extremely aware of his hand covering mine, hardly breathing. His eyes reflected the color of the shell and I could feel his breath on my skin, the warmth of his body lighting me up. I ached to touch him. He gazed back at me, seeming to intuit my thoughts and feelings. He was so close that I could feel him.

"Do I make a wish?" I teased, but my voice was barely above a whisper, giving me away.

"Maybe." Toby laced his fingers back through mine and we began to stroll again. Abruptly, his mouth turned grim, his thoughts seeming to have drifted off someplace else.

I looked to where he was staring at intently and noticed the small, weeping willow tree that stood northwest inside the garden just by the woods. I watched him carefully, puzzling over what was bothering him as he looked at the tree, seeing the sadness in his eyes for the first time tonight. No one else knew Toby the way I did. No one saw him like I did, so I always knew when something was wrong.

"Do you remember when you were asking about my mother earlier?" he finally asked after a beat.

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"My mom was the most amazing person. She was kind and genuine…the kind of person who made you feel happier just by being in the same room with her. She had this real bright spirit that you couldn't help but smile along with her." Toby paused, glancing over at the water. "Before she died, I came to see her. It had been raining and it was dark. On my way to my mother's room, I felt like someone had been following me. I should have been paying more attention. At the time I thought I was just being paranoid, but now…"

He shook his head and drew in a deep breath, struggling with his words.

I studied him, frowning. "You think that Bethany was following you?"

Bethany Young was a teenage patient at Radley before her dead body had been found in the half-dug hole of the DiLaurentis' backyard, the same night that Alison disappeared, and also the last person who saw Marion Cavanaugh alive. But before Ali had been discovered alive and in hiding for the last three and a half years, Mrs. DiLaurentis covered up Marion's death as a suicide, claiming that a disturbed patient had seen her jump from the two-story window and supposedly killed herself. Toby and I were convinced that someone had _murdered_ her, and so we started looking into Radley Sanitarium to uncover the disturbing truth about what really happened to his mom to prove that she didn't kill herself. But when Toby had gone to see her old doctor, Dr. Palmer, at a medical clinic in Saratoga, he reminded him to tell his mother to stay away from a blonde that had visited her at Radley. There was something wrong with the air around her, he'd warned.

The problem was, Toby never got to find out what Dr. Palmer knew about Marion; he'd been suffering from dementia and therefore wasn't a reliable source. As Toby combed through clues that A had been sending him about his mother's death, I realized there was only one person who could have done it–CeCe Drake, Alison's old friend and mentor. But _had_ CeCe really killed Toby's mother at Radley? Or had it been someone else? What could CeCe have against Toby's mom?

I'd made a promise to Toby that I would help him find out the truth about what really happened to his mother, and it was one I intended to keep no matter what. Then it would finally be over, and Toby and I could have the life together that we've always wanted.

"I don't know," Toby responded, pulling me out of my thoughts. "But when I talked to my mom, she seemed…scared. She kept talking about not feeling well. At first I thought she was talking about being sick. But then a week later, Radley called my dad and…" Toby swallowed, choking on his words. "And they told us that my mother had committed suicide. She had jumped from the second-story window from her room that night. My mom died instantly. I would have done _anything_ for her. But she wouldn't even tell me the truth. She didn't even say goodbye."

I touched his cheek. "You know your mom didn't kill herself. She wouldn't just leave you like that. We're going to find out what really happened to her."

"I know," he said quietly. Tears trickled down his cheeks. "It was so hard to be in the church that day. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry. And after that, I never wanted to be at another funeral again. When my mother died, my dad was…different. He became cold and distant, and lost any connection to me."

Seeing the pain and anguish in his twisted expression made my heart constrict. "I'm so sorry." I leaned forward and kissed his lips, lingering them there for a second longer. "I wish that you hadn't gone through all that alone."

Toby squeezed my hand. "I wish I had met you a year earlier."

I held onto his hand tightly, loving how soft they felt against mine. "Me, too."

"Your childhood was probably a lot more normal than mine was," he commented.

I stifled a laugh. "Don't count on it. Most of my childhood consisted of fighting with Melissa and my parents favoriting her over me."

"At least you didn't have to spend most of it in and out of hospitals, worrying about whether your mother was going to be okay again."

I felt a surge of remorse. "That doesn't sound fun. I'm sorry, that doesn't even compare to what you went through."

"Don't be. I want to hear about your life as a kid."

"I don't think it would be very interesting."

His eyes turned very gentle. "On the first day of seventh grade, you were wearing a red dress with stockings up to your knees. And you had buttercups in your hair, twisted in its half-braids. You looked so pretty."

I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned to him, caught off guard. "You remember that? But that was way back when we were kids."

He dropped his face to level his eyes with mine. "I saw you. You were walking to school with Emily and Alison when you ran into me."

"You saw me?" Heat flooded my face, but I couldn't help but feel flattered.

Toby nodded and gave me an amused smirk. "You didn't even notice me. Your eyes were always glued to your books."

"I think you were mistaken," I said quietly. "Alison was the prettier one."

"No, you were prettier," he disagreed. "I've always thought so. I used to watch you from across the playground at lunch, trying to come up with the courage to finally talk to you, but every time I saw you my heart raced and I couldn't move."

"You did?"

"Of course. I liked you from the very first moment I saw you."

I touched my hands to his face, astonished that I could love Toby any more than I already did. "I love you."

"I know. I love you, too." On instinct, he pulled me gently against his chest.

"So tell me," he whispered in my ear teasingly. "Did Spencer Hastings ever have any other hobbies besides reading books?"

I smiled sheepishly, shifting slightly in his arms. "Well, I did play the piano. I used to play all the time, but I don't as much anymore. Melissa and I used to play four-handed pieces."

"Why'd you stop?"

I sighed. "I don't know. When Melissa and I were younger, we used to play the piano for hours. And when it was time for bed, I always sobbed and begged my parents to let me play for a little bit longer."

"I'd like to hear you play."

I looked up, noticing the moonlight shining in his eyes.

Toby inclined his head toward the weeping willow tree, sensing I didn't want to talk about it anymore. "My mom loved the outdoors. She used to take me to this meadow where the weeping willow trees would grow during the spring, and we'd spend hours watching all the birds together."

I listened as he went on to talk about his mother, smiling at the stories of how he spent his weekends with her. Eventually, we neared the cabin, and as we moved towards the dock, we settled onto the edge by the water. Toby wrapped his arms around me as I leaned into him and rested my head against his chest, feeling a surge of pleasure. He drew me closer, brushing his fingers over my stomach. Our feet dangled over the edge of the dock; the feeling of him holding me so close and the smell of his scent instantly brought me at ease.

We lay there for a while, just simply holding each other. We were completely alone. The full moon shone brightly above us among the cloak of darkness.

Toby pulled me into his lap, his lips at my ear. "You're so pretty," he whispered softly.

Then he did the most incredible thing. He reached out and gently squeezed my belly, rubbing the bump. I smiled up at him, my heart feeling full. Abruptly, a shooting star raced overhead, and we both looked up into the sky to watch as it passed.

I turned to Toby. "What did you wish for?"

"It already came true," he whispered back. His eyes were intense as they locked onto mine.

I couldn't move, transfixed. For once, I was at a loss for words.

Toby raised my hand to his chest as he held me in his lap, where his heart beat fast and strong. I stared back at him, wondering how on earth I had gotten so lucky to fall in love with a person like him. Toby tightened his arm from around my back and I sunk into him, kissing me beneath the full moon.

After a few long moments, we headed back toward the lake house. We made our way over to the soft apple-green grass, then followed the pathway of brush to the front of the house.

Toby pulled open the wooden door and nodded towards the stairs inside. "C'mon, I have something to show you."

I stared at him. "What is it?"

He smiled with a knowing glint in his eye. "Come in and I'll show you."

In one swift motion, Toby swept me up into his arms and carried me upstairs. He walked down the hallway paved in pink rose pedals that led to the master bedroom. Toby set me down, and I gasped.

The room smelled like vanilla and roses, and the King-size bed was sprinkled with romantic red rose pedals. Right above it, a lavender-colored canopy flowed over the pillows in a wave of sparkles, and sheer white soft curtains billowed by the sliding glass door on the west wing.

Several candles were lit everywhere in the dim room. The floor was covered with a thick, crisp white soft carpet, and the walls were painted in a rich, dark red. The soft light reflected by the Candlelabra candle-style lamps looked inviting against the seductive black satin comforter of the bed. On the southern side of the room was a fireplace wall, where real logs crackled inside. The bedroom oozed with seduction and privacy.

Then I looked to the dozen of enormous luscious, fiery-red fluffy pillows that were assorted on the master bed and saw a familiar raised, mahogany-wooden Scrabble deluxe game board sitting in the center. It was the same Scrabble board that I'd gotten Toby for our anniversary six months ago.

I stepped closer to the bed and looked at the front of the Scrabble cabinet, where a stamped gold plate read: _For T – My safe place to land. Always your girl, S._ I brushed my fingers over it, smiling at the memory. I'd personalized the Scrabble board on the day of our anniversary in November, hoping to give it to Toby to remind him of the first day we'd kissed. Of when we first fell in love. But then a glittering light caught my eye. I looked at the top of the board and froze. Several light-wooden letter tiles were put into three separate rows across the Scrabble board. The gold letters spelled out WILL YOU MARRY ME, with a beautiful, simple diamond ring used as the O.

I turned, and Toby was kneeling down on one knee in front of me, holding out the ring in between his fingers. My heart skipped several beats.

 _Oh my god._ I stared at him, dazed and disbelieving, utterly speechless. I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. All I could do was stand there in shock.

"Toby," I breathed.

He looked up at me, his blue eyes soft. "Spencer, for most of my life, I've felt alone and disconnected from people. But then I met you. You showed me what it truly felt like to be loved and helped me feel happy for the first time since my mother passed. I love you and I can't live without you. And if you let me, I promise I will always be your safe place to land for every single moment of forever till the end of time. Spencer Hastings, will you marry me?"

I felt my eyes well up with tears, filled with several emotions all at once. Toby was my heart and soul; he was everything to me.

I smiled as the tears ran down my cheeks. Finally, I managed to whisper, "Yes. A million times yes."

Toby grinned. My heart lifted when he took my left hand in his to slide the ring on my third finger. It sparkled in the dim light. The glittering diamond had to be at least nine-in-a-half carat, set with a flawless sterling-silver band–petite and narrow. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.

I immediately jumped into his arms and he caught me. I threw my arms around Toby's neck as he spun me around the room in small circles, feeling happier than I've ever been. I giggled in response. Before Toby could react, I crushed my mouth to his and I was kissing him, my lips hard and passionate. And when he moved his unyielding lips against mine, more powerful than ever, the universe finally felt aligned.

Once Toby set me down, I stroked the side of the engagement band. "It's so pretty."

"It was my mother's," Toby explained, "And I want you to have it."

Surprise shocked me into place. I could hear the strong emotion in his voice.

I stared into his eyes and noticed he was tearing up with joy too. I was so high with happiness that I felt like I was floating over clouds. Toby looked lovingly back at me, glowing with the same joy.

Then he brought my left hand to his lips to kiss each of my knuckles before kissing the finger with my ring. "I'm yours."

I fixed my gaze on his. He was so close to me, sending my heart pounding. I was acutely aware that I wasn't wearing a bra, and the thought made me tremble with desire. A hot current ran through me like fire, of wildness and longing. His lips parted, seeming to read my thoughts.

Slowly, I brushed my fingers over the straps of my dress, sliding it down past my thighs until it fell to the floor, leaving me in only my barely-there black lace panties. I held his gaze, hoping I was getting the message across to him.

Toby stared deeply into my eyes and cupped my face, his breathing ragged. But he spoke in the softest, most sincere voice. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whispered.

"Do you want to…" he trailed off.

I swallowed deeply. "Yes. I just need to change into something a little more comfortable first."

Toby kissed my forehead before I moved to the other side of the room. I discreetly grabbed my lingerie slip set from my bag and went to the bathroom. I had gone to one of the lingerie stores in town before setting out with Toby for our weekend getaway, in preparation for our special night together.

I undressed, slipping into my sheer, lacy pink baby doll slip and matching thong. The slip was fastened at the top with a small pink bow that flowed down to my stomach, showing off my belly button. My breasts peeked out slightly from the front seductively, and thin sleeveless straps hung below my shoulders. Meanwhile, my thong rested dangerously low at my hips, where the tiny straps crossed to my rear.

The prospect of what Toby and I were going to do tonight sent an excited, hot erotic sensation through my lower navel. Being with him felt natural, right. And I trusted Toby. He made me feel loved and desired when I was with him. He had never once pressured me to do something I wasn't ready for. And when I was sure I was ready to have sex for the very first time, he had been nothing but gentle and loving with me. Toby was the sexiest guy I'd ever known, and he deserved the best for tonight.

I pumped a vanilla body spray perfume over my skin, imagining what Toby was going to do to me once we were in bed. My cheeks blazed at the thought. Next, I ran a brush a few times through my already loose waves, nervously trying to perfect the strands to make them fuller and sexier. Then I shaved my legs with my razor, being careful not to cut myself. When I was done, I took one last look in the mirror and let out a deep breath.

I stepped into the bedroom, sticking my leg out first to tease him. Toby stood in the bedroom, waiting for me. The darkened room felt more intimate with the candles flickering.

I watched his reaction as I slowly stepped closer to him. Toby stared up at me for a long moment, drinking in the sight of me, his lips parting in desire. My body trembled at the realization that he felt the same way I did.

"Spencer," he whispered.

"Toby," I gasped, and fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, hastily pulling it off.

My breath caught in my throat when I took off his pants next. Toby stood in a pair of black, tight boxer briefs, tempting me with the way they rested just below his waist. He was so sexy.

Unable to control myself, I jumped into his arms and swiftly threw my legs around his waist, pressing them tightly against him. Toby moaned as his lips instantly descended on mine, our tongues dancing. I gasped and threw myself into the kiss, sucking on his bottom lip. I wanted to be with him now and forever.

Then Toby eased me down onto the soft comforter and crawled in between my bare legs. Flames of heat licked just below my navel. I ran my hands over the muscles in his back, groaning feverishly.

He slid onto my hips, straddling me. We were so close that there was barely any space between us, with his abdomen and chest pressed hard against me. I could feel all of him as he leaned his body closer on top of mine, pinning me to his frame. He captured my mouth again, tangling his fingers through my hair.

Toby rolled his tongue over mine seductively and deepened the kiss. I could feel his desperate need, ravaging with hunger. I parted my lips and sighed.

I reached underneath the fabric of his boxer briefs to slide them off. My hand moved to cup the back of his head as I continued to inch them down. Toby moaned at my touch and kicked off his underwear I could feel him grow harder against me, and I jerked my hips forward in response.

He pressed his lips firmly to mine, sipping on me. I hardened my mouth against his, soaking up the ecstasy of his lips on mine. Toby moved his hands all over my body, touching me in places that were forbidden, binding me to him. The air, thick with our desire, crackled between us, engulfing my skin with blazing heat.

I pressed myself harder to him, the intoxicating taste of his lips making it hard to think straight. Toby's lips turned more urgent, traveling down to my neck. He took his time, licking along the side of my neck slowly, savoring the taste of my skin beneath his tongue. I moaned with pleasure when he folded his lips over my neck, nibbling gently.

Toby ran his hand along the thin, pink lace of my thong, playing with the fabric. I felt his lips all over my hips and then lowered to my legs, sucking on my thighs and making me quiver. My underwear grew moist with need; he was making my panties wet.

I gasped when Toby pressed his lips against my inner thigh, sucking fiercely. I spread out my legs for him in anticipation, feeling the tension building. I wanted to make love to him so badly it hurt. I was suddenly filled with an intense and fierce _need_ to have him join this part of me, to make me whole again.

My breathing quickened as he took hold of my panties with his teeth and dragged them down. His fingers traced the thin fabric of my lingerie slip, kissing up my body until he reached my chest. Growling, Toby buried his head in between my breasts, sucking ferociously. I gasped as he yanked the slip off over my head, tossing it across the room. Then he cupped my breasts with both hands and continued to suck on them. I tilted my head to the side and moaned.

Toby reached back up suddenly to brush his knuckles gently across my cheek, making me forget for a moment that we were both completely naked. I closed my eyes at his soft touch, suddenly feeling dizzy.

We slipped underneath the thick covers and pressed our bodies as close to each other as possible. I lavished at the softness of the sheets folding around us as Toby settled on top of me, reveling in the heat of his body. It made me turn to jelly.

Caught up in our passion, I rolled over on top of him and clawed my hands into his hard, muscular chest, straddling him with my hips. Desire flickered in his deep blue eyes. I ran my tongue over my lips slowly, luring him. In that instant, he reached up and wrapped his arms around me, flipping us over again.

I wrapped my legs around Toby's waist as he took me, and then he was inside me, spreading me. I panted and moaned profusely as I felt the full length of him in me. He felt so good.

Toby inched himself in further, exploring every ounce inside me, touching every surface, every spot. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and yelped.

The silky black sheets covering us felt smooth and sexy against my skin, which rested dangerously low at Toby's waist. He heaved on top of me slowly, rubbing up against my body. This was different from the other times we've had sex; the way he was moving into me felt different. It was sensual and deep, but erotic and rough, enflaming every inch of my skin.

Toby snaked an arm around my waist as he continued to move against me, loving me in the most beautiful way–holding me close to his body as his hand stroked along my back, tracing the length of my spine. I shivered from his addictive touch, my heart pounding.

I clutched a fistful of sheets in my hand as he moved into me deep and firmly. Gasping, I moved my thigh from underneath the covers to press it hard against his hip, feeling him pleasuring me. Our breathing grew heavy, our hunger for each other carnal.

I dug my nails hard into his back and screamed in pleasure. We rubbed our bodies against each other joyfully, moaning and groaning with every thrust. It was so pleasuring and sinful and naughty interwoven into one.

We rolled around in bed, our bodies hot and naked and sweating. The sheets clung to our skin, the silky softness ravishing us with our every movements. I felt Toby thread his fingers through mine against the pillows, eventually trailing his lips along the length of my arm.

Toby brushed his lips over my chin next as he thrusted against me, and I let out another gasp. Desire pooled far below my navel, swimming in a darker place that I could have ever imagined. Grunting, Toby bent my knees back and grinded into me, moving swiftly and firmly, but careful as not to hurt me.

I leaned my head back against the soft pillows and let out a long, deep guttural moan. It only spurred him on, and he pressed his hips against mine. Toby rubbed us into the mattress slowly and sensually, making me ache. The deeper I dug my nails into him, the harder he moved against me.

"Harder!" I begged, and Toby obliged.

I pleaded for him to go rougher, to give me everything, feeling beyond pleasured by him. Obeying my pleas, Toby slid his hands sexually down to my buttcheeks and gently pushed me further into him, hardening inside me.

I moaned and bit his shoulder, and Toby yelped with pleasure. I hooked my legs around him, locking them into place as he moved on top of me rapidly, like an enthusiastic rabbit mating with his lover.

He was so excited; it was just so sexy and erotic. I slid my arms up to his muscular back, holding on tightly as I moved with him.

Toby pressed his lips along the shape of my bare breasts, moving lower until he reached my belly. My skin turned to fire as shivers raced down my spine, glistening in sweat. I moaned, but then he did something even more amazing.

Toby bent down lower and kissed my navel, sucking deeply. I spread apart my knees for him, panting hard. He was making me sweat for it. Seconds later, I felt his tongue in there, sucking and licking. My lips parted in a series of long, deep groans. After spending a few long, glorious minutes of him tasting me, I wrapped my legs around his back and squeezed, finally giving in to him.

Still wrapped in the sheets, Toby kneeled on the bed and sat back on his heels, pulling me into him in the lotus position–our favorite. The sudden movement caught me off guard, making me gasp against his lips. Toby used the momentum to capture my lower lip gently in between his teeth, sucking slowly.

I twisted my arms around his neck and straddled his knees, melting into him. Then Toby pressed his hands firmly against my shoulder blades as he pushed into me fiercely. I could hear the bed springs from the mattress squeaking as we made love.

I pressed my forehead to his, both of us gasping and panting hard. My body shook with pleasure as I took in Toby's hard, muscular body dripping with sweat and twitching furiously with restraint. I bit my lip with satisfaction. My breaths became heavier with each gasp. As I screamed his name, I could feel him getting excited.

I didn't try to fight off the hot orgasm that rippled through me. Instead, I threw myself into it. I lifted up my hips and placed my hands on top of his shoulders, thrusting myself into Toby in swift, languid movements. I jerked into him, rubbing my sweaty body against his as he moved in deeply. Toby groaned, digging his fingers into my back.

He penetrated me until he was rocking into me rhythmically. My heels dug into the mattress with each movement, moaning heavily. Toby went slow and deep–giving me all kinds of pleasure. His arms held me up as I used the strength in my legs to thrust myself up and down against him; I could feel his muscles tense with every thrust.

I buried my face into his neck and closed my eyes, losing myself to Toby. Every time he pushed into me, I pushed back into him simultaneously.

I was floating in my own world of pleasure. Toby had never loved me like this before, and I was absolutely certain that I didn't want him to ever stop. It was intense and raw and beautiful all at once.

I licked the underside of Spencer's jaw and held her body close to mine as I continued to move against her gently underneath the sexy thick, fluffy black down-comforter in the master bedroom, our limbs entwined. Spencer let out a gasp of pleasure against my cheek and then smashed her lips back onto mine. The sensation of her bare skin against mine was enough to drive me insane.

We'd been rolling around underneath the covers for hours, making love. I wished I could make this night last forever. Being naked with Spencer felt like heaven, and the rest of the world faded away and it was just me and her. It was what we did when they were completely devoted to one another, and loved each other deeply and wanted to convey those feelings in the most beautiful way. We were connecting in the most intimate way possible. It was emotional, physical, spiritual. Special.

I paused over Spencer beneath me and caught her gaze locked onto mine, only inches away from her face. Her deep, chocolate brown eyes mesmerized me. I stared at her in awe, still in disbelief that this beautiful, perfect being had agreed to marry me. I only had to inhale her delicious and sweet scent just once and I was lost in her. Instinctively, I grazed my thumb across her lower lip and pressed my mouth to hers. Spencer dug her fingers into my shoulders, whimpering with longing against my lips.

I slowly traced my lips down her neck and shoulders. We were moaning and panting hard now, grinding against each other's bodies in perfect sync. I rubbed my feet up and down her legs as we continued to make love, groaning slightly.

Spencer roamed her hands all over my back and shoulders greedily, exploring. I was so close to her that our bodies were molded together, and I couldn't remember where she began and I ended. I heaved on top of Spencer, pushing my body into her.

"Oh, Toby," she sighed.

"Oh, Spencer," I moaned, and pressed my body closer to hers.

I began to give her deeper, more steady thrusts. I could feel what I was doing to her and it felt incredible. Spencer entwined her legs around me in response. We rolled over again and now she was on top of me, breathing hard. She touched my body, and I kissed every inch of her skin from head to toe. Afterwards, I pulled her close into my arms. She nestled deep within my chest while I stroked her hair and whispered how special she was to me and how much I loved her, both of us content to stay in our little bubble.

I caught the glint coming off of the beautiful diamond ring that now rested on Spencer's finger and my heart swelled to twice its size, feeling as though my chest was about to burst. I couldn't understand how I deserved such happiness. I was engaged to the most amazing, beautiful, perfect goddess. Spencer and I would soon be getting married. Two lives joining together, two hearts beating as one.

I reached out to take her hand, tracing my thumb across her engagement band. I never wanted to let her go. I kissed the finger with the ring, then lifted her hand, kissing the sensitive underside of her palm. I didn't think it was possible to love Spencer more than I already did, but I loved her so much more every day.

Spencer lifted up her face to mine. "Toby, are you happy?"

"You make me happier than I could ever express." I kissed her forehead. "Why do you ask?"

She sighed. "I was just wondering."

I rubbed her back. "Are _you_ happy?"

She buried her face into my chest and sighed in content. "I am happy. I'm really happy. I just keep waiting for something to ruin it. Every time we're alone, something always gets in the way."

"Shhh, I love you. It's never going to happen." I pressed a long, lingering kiss against her hair.

Spencer looked up at me, her eyes shining with happiness. "I love you, too. So much." She grabbed my hand to kiss my knuckles and then nuzzled her head underneath my chin.

I leaned in closer and touched her lips, lovingly kissing the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, then finally her eyelids.

Spencer entangled her feet with mine and nestled herself even deeper into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as close to me as possible. For a long time we just lay there, listening to the steady thrum of our heartbeats. I began to run my fingers through her hair absentmindedly, feeling my body buzzing with warmth.

Spencer pressed her nose into my neck and breathed in deeply. "Mmm, you smell so good. I love your smell."

I kissed her ear. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you."

She took my hand again suddenly, pressing my palm to her face. "There's nowhere else I would rather be than in your arms while you play with my hair and whisper in my ear how much you love me. It's my favorite place. You have no idea how happy it makes me."

"You changed my world, Spencer," I professed. "Ever since the moment when you first became my girl."

Spencer gazed at me as her eyes danced into mine, watering with tears. "And you changed mine. I'll always be your girl." She moved my hand on top of her naked belly, holding it gently there. "Look at this. Our baby was made from our love. You gave me something so precious, and I don't know what I would do without you. You're my hero."

I shivered, rubbing her bump affectionately. A few more stray tears trickled down Spencer's cheeks.

"Shhh…don't cry," I whispered. I pressed my forehead against hers and caressed the side of her face, touching my nose to hers.

Spencer placed her hand on top of mine over her cheek. "No, they're good tears. I just love you so much."

"I love you more than anything. Your happiness means the world to me. And if you do cry, just know that I'll kiss away all your tears." I pressed my lips to hers tenderly, wiping away the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs as I kissed her.

Spencer reciprocated the kiss, sliding her hands up my neck to my face. My heart pounded in my ears. We kissed deeply for several minutes, prolonging the moment for as long as possible.

Then I rested back against the pillows and drew Spencer on top of me. She squealed in delight as I threw the covers over us and kissed her beneath the blankets, our lips colliding amidst a series of giggles. More laughter rumbled from my chest, soaking her up like sunlight. Spencer's happiness was contagious, and I wanted to eat her up.

I was madly in love with Spencer and I knew within the deep depths of my heart that I would never love anyone else for the rest of my life.


	9. Chapter 9

9\. She's No Angel

Spencer

Danger surrounded me. A thin and silent presence hung in the air, as if ghosts were wandering the halls, and a strange, horrible feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. I strained into the shadows as I walked down the dark hallway of what looked to be an abandoned mental hospital, with cold cement floors, boarded up windows, and some stretchers turned over. It reminded me of my time at Radley. I shivered.

It was hard to find my way through the maze-like twisting and turning halls. The pace was empty and cold, and eerily quiet inside. The only sound I could hear was my own breath. I felt like I was being watched, sending cold shivers to slither down my spine. Terror seized me when I heard the soft sound of footsteps echoing from behind me, but when I glanced over my shoulder, no one was there.

Mild recognition told me I was desperately searching for something, but I didn't know what. All I could remember was that I needed to get there. I didn't dare look behind me again, afraid of what I would find if I did. Moving deeper down the dark hall, I saw a shadow lurking nearby out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around, my heart pounding. The hallway across from me remained black.

I hurried back down the hallway. Suddenly, I heard a baby's high, ringing wail from somewhere in the building and everything clicked into place. The familiarity of her cry, my aching need to find something. And then something, mother instinct I recalled, jostled through my body.

I knew that voice, even though I shouldn't have. _My baby._

An excruciating pain radiated through my skull as I tore down the hall in the direction of the sound, my pulse pounding in my ears. The crying got louder with each stride I took, piercing the air and becoming more intense. A strong need to protect the baby overwhelmed me, cutting off all my other senses. In that moment, I was blinded by everything else. All I could think of was my baby.

I kept tripping on the slippery floor trying to get to her, so I clung onto the wall for balance as I ran, trying to keep my footing.

"Spencer," a deep, male voice hissed.

The whisper of pursuit cut through the halls, coming closer. I didn't stop to see who it was, too stricken with grief to concentrate. Whoever it was, I had to find my daughter before he did. The only thought I had in my throbbing head was the hope that she would soon be safe.

I raced around the corner–my legs couldn't move fast enough. It was like I was trying to run through quicksand and I was sinking. The walls were closing in on me, making it hard to breathe. I thought of Toby to keep my feet moving, of his beautiful face smiling back at me, kissing me.

I continued running, my face dripping with sweat, gasping for air. When I reached the main corridor, I bolted down the flight of stairs and paused. A heavy, grey door stood before me, but it felt miles away. My heart rammed against my ribs. I couldn't wait here. My baby girl was alone and frightened beyond that door, depending on me. I took a deep breath, trying to gather up my strength. Then slowly, I went up to the door and shoved it open, tugging on the handle fiercely.

But as soon as I stepped inside, my heart started to pound again.

I was standing in an old, dank basement. I couldn't see very well in the dim light, but I could still just make out the file cabinets pushed up against the wall, where papers and files were scattered all over the floor. And old medical equipment–microscopes, bed trays, and more stretchers–were strewn around the room. A tall, metal door stood to the right of me.

I'd managed to calm my breathing, but my heart was still beating erratically. Hesitantly, I reached for the door and rested against the balls of my feet, ready to fight.

I'd fight him if I had to, if it meant saving my daughter.

And then I heard my baby scream, that same tone of helplessness and desperation. I immediately turned the knob and swung it open, running toward the sound of her cries. They intensified as I ran into a huge, high-ceilinged room, turning into a full-blown high pitched shriek.

This room was stark white all over the walls and the floor, with no windows. The only light came from a dangling light bulb attached above the ceiling. A buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the room filled my ears. I wasn't alone.

I turned in the direction of the sound and froze, sending my heart racing. A dark, familiar figure was standing in front of a ceramic tub filled with water. A heavy mechanical machine sat on the floor beside it with a small blinking button in the left corner than glowed bright red, indicating that it was connected to electric wires. I felt my throat constrict.

He was dressed strictly in black–black pants, black boots, black leather gloves, and a black hoodie that concealed his eyes. I couldn't see the rest of his face other than his mouth, which was twisted in a menacing smirk.

And in his arms was my daughter.

I gasped. She was trembling in Charles' arms, frightened.

She was beautiful, lovely, just as I had imagined she would be. The baby in his arms had to be six months old at least. Dark brown curls framed her angular face against her round cheeks and full lips. And when she looked in my direction, I suddenly saw her eyes, a deep blue. Those eyes were pleading with me, and suddenly I no longer had a choice anymore. I had to save her.

I was once again struck with the gravitational, powerful need to save my beautiful, terrified child that Charles' held in his menacing arms. Streaks of anger trembled in my body, consumed by the blood rage taking hold of me. I was past reason or logic now. All that mattered to me was protecting my baby from Charles. My stomach churned from disgust.

He looked up, and the corners of his lips turned up into a truly menacing smile.

I glared at him icily. "If you touch one hair on her head, I will make you live to regret it!"

Charles didn't speak. He dangled the girl just above the sparking water and she let out another piercing scream. I clenched my teeth together.

Seeing Charles standing before me, wearing nothing by an ink-black hoodie and gloves should have terrified me, but I was too blinded by my fury to feel afraid. I no longer cared how menacing or dangerous he was; I had to set her free from his grasp.

I sprinted toward him without thinking, not caring what he did to me. The rage bubbled over and I used the strength from it to shoe Charles in the chest, pulling my baby towards me as he stumbled backwards. He collided into a medical cart with a crash and toppled over onto the ground.

Relief flooded me as soon as I held the adorable baby securely in my arms and cradled her to my chest gently, gazing down at her. She was so beautiful, I couldn't breathe. It felt so familiar and terrifying all at once to hold her this way. Whether or not she was physically here, she would always be a part of me. This child would always be mine. Her tiny, dark-brown hairs and sapphire-blue eyes were only a confirmation of that.

The girl was smiling up at me, her eyes shining with love. She couldn't be real. And then the baby in my arms gurgled with pure joy. My eyes glassed over from hearing her sweet little voice. Everything else just faded away. I knew this little girl. And suddenly, she was very much real.

Unable to help myself, I leaned down and kissed her tiny cheek. Her skin felt so soft and warm. She giggled in response.

Just then, a cold, dark-gloved hand clasped around my mouth as someone in a black hoodie grabbed the baby from my arms and I heard with crushing agony as she let out a high, piercing wail. I screamed, desperately trying to reach her, but the hands locked around my waist.

I glanced over at the medical cart where I'd shoved Charles, but he was no longer there. My heart stopped beating for just a fraction of a second as I let the truth sink in. they were going to kill her.

Charles stood in front of me, holding my baby against his chest. I stared at him in furious disbelief. It was difficult to restrain the part of myself that wanted to destroy him for what he was about to do to my child.

The rage ignited in me again. And a fiery glow spread throughout my body, and all I wanted in that moment was to tear apart his limbs.

A fierce scream tore up in my throat. "No!"

Charles let out a menacing laugh. The sound echoed through the room, raising goosebumps along my arms. But there was a familiar ring to it, peaking my fury higher than ever before. It felt powerful and uncontrollable. I let it flow through me, and all I could feel was the power from that rage. My muscles tightened and I reacted instinctively. I threw all my force into breaking free from the hard, controlled grasp of the person holding me back, but the arms around me tightened. And as I fought against his hard grip, his hands dug into my waist and I felt a sharp, stabbing pain sear my skin.

Then Charles pulled out a small remote control with his free hand and clicked it on, activating a robotic voice. "You and your friends will pay for the consequences of your actions." He flashed me a cold, cruel smile. "And I'm sure your baby will make an excellent payment for your mistakes."

My body went rigid. The other A grabbed my arm as I lurched myself forward and let out a fierce shriek of pure rage.

"I won't let you take her!" I cried out.

"You don't have a choice anymore," Charles responded.

I couldn't bare to watch my baby girl being taken away from me, stepping closer into my enemy's territory. It tore away at me; it was my responsibility to protect her.

A tried to pull me into a headlock, but I grabbed hold of his arm and knocked him to the ground, and I sprinted toward the smiling Charles.

A flung himself at me. I tried to kick him in the groin, but he quickly caught my arm and twisted both of them behind my back, and then pinned me against the side of the wall. A stinging pain shot up my arm and slowly exploded into my shoulder blade, causing me to cry out in pain. But still, I fixated my attention on my baby.

Charles clicked on the machine with the remote. It buzzed to life automatically, and the wires that wound in and out of the water tub crackled with electricity. The girl released another bloodletting scream as Charles neared the tub. It was torturous to stand there, helpless, when my daughter's life was in such immediate danger, waiting for them to make the kill.

"Don't touch her!" I screamed at him.

But Charles was already walking away into the dark gloom where the tub sparked with life, and the only thing I could hear were my desperate screams and my baby's wails.

Hot tears stung my eyes. I shrieked frantically in agony.

I raised my arms in one last attempt to try to tear myself away, but A pulled me closer and then smacked my head against the cement wall, shocking me.

He pressed his lips to my ear. "Toby's next."

I blinked slowly, watching in horror as Charles lifted the girl into the electric-wired tub. As he did so, a little bit of his hood moved over the side of his face and I caught a glimpse of a chiseled chin and a shock of dirty blonde hair. My baby's screams swarmed around me until they cut silent. And then everything faded to black…

I woke up screaming.

"Spencer!" Vaguely, I felt someone shaking me. "Spencer, wake up!"

I shot up and gasped, the back of my neck and forehead damp with sweat. I glanced around the room, disoriented about where I was. I was lying in the master bed in the upstairs bedroom of my family's lake house, naked underneath the covers except for one of Toby's oversize T-shirts and a pair of cotton plaid boxers I'd pilfered from his top drawer; I wasn't wearing any underwear or a bra for that matter. Soft gold light filtered in through the room from the window. Slowly, the awareness began to seep back into my consciousness. Toby was sitting up in bed next to me, his chest bare, looking concerned.

 _Toby._

I clutched the sheets tighter to my chest. The dream had felt so real, so vivid. I could still hear Charles' voice in my head: _Toby's next._ I sat in bed shivering, trying to break free of the nightmare.

"Hey, come here." Toby wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him.

I pressed my cheek against his chest and rested my hand on his bare skin, letting the sound of his heartbeat calm my ragged breaths. He was so warm and comforting, and smelled like soap and sandalwood.

"Spencer," Toby whispered, wrapping both arms around me. "Are you okay?"

My eyes popped open. The baby. My hands flew from his chest to my still-bulging stomach. It was only a small bump, but feeling it underneath my hand brought joy to my heart.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said finally.

Toby placed his hand over mine on top of my stomach, resting at my navel. The sensation made my insides grow hot.

I sighed in relief, but the memory of the dream still stayed with me. Seeing my baby's terrified face, hearing her bloodcurdling cries as she breathed her last breath. What did Charles mean by I didn't have a choice anymore? What did he want? I tried to assure myself that it was just a dream, but I couldn't stop the tears that formed in my eyes, streaming down my cheeks. I tried to blink them back to no avail.

I let out an involuntary, small whimper.

"Spencer," Toby said urgently, his eyes growing more worried. "What's wrong?" He wiped away the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs and then smoothed my hair back from my face affectionately.

"Nothing," I said quietly. I pressed my fingers to the base of my pulsing neck and let out a breath, waiting for my heart to slow. "Just a bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, but then abruptly the tears began to fall freely down my cheeks. "I saw A hurting our baby." I couldn't control the sobs that broke in my throat as I buried my face into his neck, my body shaking.

Toby immediately pulled me in closer against his chest, running his fingers through my hair. "Shhh, it's alright. I'm here." He gently rocked me back and forth to soothe me.

"It was so real." My voice broke again with tears.

"It was just a nightmare." He rubbed my shoulders. "I won't let A hurt you again or our baby. I'll always protect you."

I wrapped my arms around him tightly, my sobs beginning to subside. "I…I love you so much. I don't want to…I can't…" I struggled to speak as I tried to express to him everything that I was feeling.

"Shhh, I know," he whispered soothingly. "I love you, too, Spence." He held me firmly to him, pressing his cheek against my hair.

Toby's soft voice in my ear soothed me and I began to breathe a little easier again. I snuggled closer to him and sighed, closing my eyes.

As we lay there in each other's arms, Toby pulled back slightly and smiled down at me, dim in the darkness. "Do you want to go down to the lake today? I could make a picnic just for us. It's been a while since we've had some alone time together."

I sparkled at him. "I'd love that."

"Great." Toby kissed my forehead and hopped out of bed. He found his boxer briefs from last night and slipped into a pair of his jeans.

Jumbled with excitement, I rolled over and slid off the bed as well. I wanted to be dressed decently for our picnic.

"I'll get everything packed," he said, kissing me on the lips. "You go get dressed."

"Will you pack some peanut butter and crackers?" I asked. "I've been craving them lately."

"Anything you want, beautiful."

I smiled happily, and he kissed me again.

"And don't forget your swimsuit," he said over his shoulder.

I was so happy that my whole body was shaking. I changed into my peachy-red string bikini from the top drawer of a tall, mahogany dresser where Toby and I had put away our clothes inside and grabbed a cotton blue cover-up. I peeked over my shoulder at Toby shyly. He'd pulled on a navy blue long-sleeved Henley shirt that accentuated his chest and shoulders in all the right places. Patches of pink spread over my cheeks and neck, making me hot all over.

Then he disappeared downstairs to pack everything up for our picnic by the lake. I paused in the mirror, admiring my new body. The tiny, cheeky bottoms hung slightly below my hips by its thin straps that were tied around my waist, showing off the better half of my navel and buttcheeks. And the strapless top was tied in a bow at the front, just below my newly firm, full breasts. I closed my eyes, imagining Toby ripping it off. Shaking my head, I pulled on my cover-up.

Toby returned five minutes later with a blanket and a whicker basket slung over his arm. "Ready?"

I grinned. "Yes."

Toby took my hand and we headed out to the lake. He locked his arm around my waist as we walked, leading me through a patch of grass on a small hill past the big birch tree overlooking the lake.

As we settled down on the blanket Toby had laid out, he wrapped his arms around me, his lips at my ear. "You're even more beautiful than that sunrise."

I stared across the lake, watching the ripples in the water. The evening sun had peaked up from beyond the water, golden and beautiful. I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of his arms around me. "You're too good to me."

Toby chuckled and kissed my cheek, making me shiver. "I love you."

I turned in his arms and leaned into him, kissing the stubble on his cheek gently. "I love you, too." I wrapped my arms around his torso and sighed.

He nuzzled my neck, kissing my ear. I wrapped my legs around his waist in response, holding onto him. I loved him more now than I ever had before.

Toby sat up slightly to pull out a wine cooler bucket from the basket that was set up in front of us.

My mouth fell open when I spotted the non-alcoholic champagne bottle sitting in the ice. "Toby…"

He touched his lips to my hair. "Anything for my girl."

I hugged him tighter, touched that he would do this. "Toby, this is perfect." I pressed my lips to his several times, kissing him happily. "I love you, I love you."

I felt Toby smile through our kisses. "And I love you."

Tears filled my eyes. "I love you so much. Thank you for this." I grabbed his hand and lifted it to my lips, kissing it.

He caressed my cheek, and I sighed. "I love you more than anything, even more since we got back together. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I leaned my cheek into his palm, where Toby stroked it lovingly. Then he popped off the cork of the champagne bottle and poured me a glass. I took a sip, enjoying the cool, bubbly liquid sliding down my throat smoothly.

Toby unloaded the basket. He'd prepared a whole meal for us–a loaf of honey bread, thick wedges of sharp cedar cheese, pasta marinated with basil and olives, and a platter of crackers with peanut butter spread between.

"This looks incredible," I breathed.

We spent the next hour talking and eating our picnic lunch in between kisses. When we were finished, Toby stripped down to his swim trunks while I self-consciously kept my bathing suit cover-up wrapped around myself. Then I snuggled up against him on the blanket, tracing my fingers along his naked chest and kissing his skin. Toby moaned softly, stroking my hair with his fingers. I sighed at his hand in my hair, rubbing my face against his chest affectionately.

"I've missed this," I murmured.

"I missed it, too," Toby whispered. _"Vous etes ma vie maintenant."_

" _Je prefere mourir que de vivre sans toi,"_ I responded.

"I'd do anything for you," he said.

I looked up at him. "I know you would and I love you for it."

Toby paused, his expression twisting in torment. "When I saw you in that place, in the Dollhouse, I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you forever, and I hate that you had to go through that."

I listened to the pain and anguish in Toby's voice as he spoke, and a deep ache pierced me.

I reached up to stroke the side of his face, pushing back his hair. "I was in pain for a while. It hurt to breathe not knowing if I would ever see you again. But then I did, and now I don't ever want to be away from you ever again."

"Just knowing what A did to you… God, Spencer, it killed me." He wrapped his arms around me tighter.

I ran my hands along his arms. "Shhh, I'm safe now. I don't want to be anywhere else than here in your arms."

"You know, you're going to be giving birth in four months," Toby said lightly, his mood suddenly changing. "So we should probably think about when we're going to get married. We could go to a chapel, or elope."

My heart fluttered at the mention of marrying Toby. "If I could, I'd marry you right here and now."

He touched his nose to mine. "I'd love nothing more than to be with you forever, to have you as my wife." His eyes turned very tender. "After everything that happened with Andrew and not knowing if you were alive, it made me realize that I didn't want to waste another second with you. I promise you for as long as we live, I'll never leave your side. It's you and me, Spencer. Always."

I grabbed his cheeks in my hands and kissed him. I lingered my lips on his for a second longer, cherishing the moment. Toby gently held my hand in his, kissing the finger with the engagement ring, and my heart swelled.

I locked my big brown eyes onto his suggestively. "Do you want to join me in the lake?"

"Mmm," Toby murmured, reading between the lines. "Sounds very, very tempting, but what about the baby?"

I pouted at him, sticking out my bottom lip. "Please, baby?"

Toby ran his hands down my arms and shoulders. "I don't want to go skinny dipping if it'll hurt the baby."

"It won't."

I stood and slowly peeled off my cover-up, raising my arms over my head as I dropped it onto the ground so Toby could see my navel and my slightly exposed breasts. He stared at my body lustfully, and a hot, excited feeling raced through me. The odd temptation to take off my bikini overcame me.

I crawled on top of him slowly like a tiger, straddling his hips. Caught up in my wild desires, I lowered the straps on my cheeky bikini below my hips, teasing him. I didn't want to control it anymore.

Toby moved his hands to my bare hips, playing with the tiny straps. I kissed down his body, sucking on his toned abs. He let out a loud groan.

I brushed my lips to his ear. "I'll be naked," I whispered.

"Alright, I give in," he moaned.

I looked at him with delight, then pulled myself off of him. As I walked towards the lake, I looked back over my shoulder at Toby seductively. "Coming?"

Toby smiled at me, desire flickering in his eyes. "You're going to be a good girl now, aren't you?"

I smiled back mischievously. "No promises. I try to be a good girl, but sometimes I can get a little naughty." I stuck out my leg and dipped my foot into the shimmering shallow water, testing the temperature first. It felt nice and cool against my skin.

I stared out across the lake, noting how it sparkled against the sunlight. And the water was motionless, like glass. Everything was perfect.

"Skinny dipping out here in the lake…I think this constitutes as bad boy behavior," I teased. I stepped closer to Toby, moving my hips slowly and sensually towards him.

His eyes fell down to my chest, where the bow at the front of my bikini top was tied just below my newly enlarged breasts, showing how full they were.

Toby pulled me in, untying the bow with his fingers. "Hmm, so I'm a bad boy, am I?"

I let out a wild gasp as my top fell to the ground, revealing my bare chest. He stared deeply into my eyes with hot desire, turning me on.

The corners of my lips turned up into a flirtatious smile. "Yes, you're a very bad boy." I tugged at the waistband of his swim trunks towards me. "A bad boy I would really love to have in my bed right now."

"You have no idea of all the things I want to do to you right now," he moaned.

I trailed a finger down his chest. "Do we really have to wait until we get back to the cabin?" I pouted.

"M-maybe," Toby stuttered. "I don't… Do you h-have…to do that?" He looked down at my finger on his chest.

"Do what?" I asked innocently.

I pressed my hips against his. I wanted him to take off my bikini. It felt like days since we last made love, even though we'd had sex last night, all night long.

Then I dove for Toby's bare chest and licked him ferociously, groaning feverishly. I wanted his sex. It seemed he wanted it too, because he slid his hand down from my lower back to my rear, cupping my butt in both hands. Toby slid his hand underneath the back of my bikini bottoms, stroking all over my cheeks. I moaned and rubbed my hands against his hard, muscular chest roughly.

He groaned, trembling slightly. I sucked slowly down his body, tugging down his trunks as I kneeled down to his waist. When I looked up at him beneath my lashes, I saw lust flickering in his eyes, making my pelvis throb with lightening speed.

I stepped back and licked my lips appreciatively, thrilled that Toby was now naked. Everything about him was sexy–his perfectly developed chest, the strength in his thighs, his firm rear. How the muscles in his back rippled with every movement, his bulging biceps, how his hard sternum cut appealingly below his navel. If I couldn't have him, I was going to go crazy.

Toby immediately slid off my cheeky bikini bottoms, tossing them aside. The both of us were completely naked. He met my eyes with undeniable wanting.

I stared back excitedly, allowing him to pull me in close. Toby kissed up my body before finding my lips, kissing me hard. I kissed him back aggressively, letting out a low growl against his lips.

I bit down gently on his bottom lip. "Mmmph."

Toby parted his lips, hovering them over mine. "I should punish you for that."

My eyes cut down below his waist, brightening at the length of him. I reached for his member and tugged on it gently. "Mmmmm…" Touching him this way felt so naughty, yet so satisfying and right.

"Spencerrrrrr!" Toby closed his eyes, moaning as I continued to touch him.

"You're sexy," I purred.

I heard Toby swear under his breath. Biting my lower lip in satisfaction, I stroked and tugged at his glorious member, enjoying how he felt.

Toby's eyes roamed over my breasts appreciatively. He licked his lips as if he was devouring the finest desert, and then he cupped my breasts, rubbing them with his hands. I groaned when I felt him sucking on them, licking. It was as if two cherries were stuck in whipped cream right on my nipples and he was trying to suck them out with his tongue, savoring every lick.

Finally, Toby picked me up by the waist and locked my legs around him as he stepped into the lake. He carried me into the darker depths of the water until it stopped at our waists.

I untangled myself from him to return my lips to his while looping my arms around his neck. Toby kept his arms wrapped around my waist under water as he moved us to the dock, pinning me there.

He broke the kiss for a moment, pressing his forehead to mine. I gently touched my fingers to the planes of his face, gazing into the depths of his eyes. Toby stared back with probing intensity.

Then he gave me that irresistible smirk that I loved so much. "I loved seeing you in that bikini. You were so sexy in it." He raised an eyebrow at me flirtatiously.

"I love that I please you." I threw my legs around his waist. "Sexually."

Toby groaned. "Oh, baby."

"And you have no idea how good it feels when you're pleasing me." I smiled at him devilishly.

He whimpered, shivering. I moved my lips to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. My skin blazed hotly against the cold water, driven from being so close to him. I worked my way from Toby's ear to his neck, trailing my lips along his collarbone.

He released a deep moan. "Don't stop."

I smiled against his skin, kissing slowly down his chest, nibbling gently while he held me securely. I wanted to kiss every inch of him.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Toby moaned.

"Just kiss me," I breathed.

Toby abruptly smashed his lips to mine. I pressed my palms to his cheeks, kissing him fiercely and passionately. After about a minute, I pulled away, keeping his bottom lip in between my teeth. He groaned and opened his mouth for me, sliding his tongue in deeply, prolonging the kiss for as long as possible.

And then we were moving sensually against each other, moaning and groaning with our thrusts. I tightened my legs around him while he held me pressed firmly to him. Then, overcome by our passion, Toby started to rock into me, matching my movements. I leaned my cheek against his shoulder and sighed.

He inserted himself more deeply inside me, cupping my buttcheeks as he jerked into me. I screamed with pleasure. Toby slowly trailed his lips from my mouth to my neck, teasing me. I arched my neck for him as he sucked and licked the bare skin, moaning. I wanted all of him.

"More!" I begged. I clawed at his back and screamed again as he moved in completely, satisfying me.

He moved harder, faster, and I yelped. A hot orgasm rippled through me like fire. I was so surprised that I let myself get swallowed up by him, enjoying my orgasm. I was coming and he knew it.

"Toby!" I screamed. "Oh, that's right!"

Toby hitched my legs up higher and locked them around his back, making me yelp. I ran my hands along the length of his strong arms, feeling the bulging restrain there.

His arms braced my back, grunting as he hardened inside of me. My mouth hung wide open, consumed by our hot and heavy passion. I dragged my lips down his shoulder, moaning loudly. I was absolutely certain that this was the best sex I'd ever had.

He finally settled into that special spot, filling me with his full length and making me lose control.

"Right there!" I cried. "That's it!"

I threw my hips against his, grinding my pelvis against his fiercely. Toby groaned with pleasure as I rubbed my chest to his.

Hours later, Toby stood in the water with my legs still wrapped around him, panting hard. I rubbed my hands across the strained muscles in his arms and back, trying to relax him. We had been playing hard–sexually–and after making love for three hours, I was ready to finally head back to the cabin.

I ran my hand through his damp hair, massaging the back of his head.

Toby buried his head into my hair and kissed my neck. "Thank you," he murmured.

I sighed in response. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I just love you so much."

"You're not the one that got carried away. Toby ran his hands slowly up my naked body. "You're just so sexy, I can't help myself."

I felt his hand stroking my inner thigh and I moaned. I couldn't control the orgasm that exploded through my body. And it didn't help that Toby was extremely skilled in bed, not just with his moves, but the way he delivered it. He had such a way with moving with my body, touching me, and satisfying my needs that I didn't want him to stop. He was amazing.

"Can we go back now?" I gasped softly. "Otherwise, I'm going to lose it."

Toby skimmed his nose against my cheek. "Yeah. Me, too."

He scooped me up, using his strong arms to support the underside of my legs as he carried me inside the cabin. I leaned my cheek into his chest and closed my eyes.

As soon as my feet hit the floor, I walked toward the dresser and rummaged through my nightgowns and pajamas, trying to find something to wear to bed. There was a lot of pink and lace in my intimates, but as I tried slipping on a lacy black bra, I realized it was too tight around my chest. I pawed through the satin and lace, anxiously trying to find something that didn't make me vomit from the uneasiness, but I couldn't find one bra that fit. Giving up, I closed the top dresser drawer and pulled on one of Toby's shirts instead.

Toby turned to me. "Babe, let's get you in bed, okay?"

I smiled gratefully at him. "Yes, Officer."

"Come here, sleepy head." Toby pulled back the covers of our bed and helped tuck me in.

I groaned slightly when my back hit the bed, not caring that I wasn't wearing a bra. "Toby, are you coming to bed?"

"Yeah, in just a minute." Toby grabbed a pair of his underwear from the right side of the top dresser drawer.

I admired the firmness of his butt as he pulled them on. I sighed when he crawled underneath the covers with me and wrapped my arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into the nape of his neck. I felt relieved for the boxers covering him, as I wouldn't be able to control myself otherwise.

Toby wrapped an arm closely around my waist, snaking the other one along my back. Then he pulled the comforter up around the both of us. The warm covers folded snuggly over us, reaching just under my chin. I watched as Toby's eyelids began to droop, until finally he dozed off while holding me in his arms.

I snuggled against him and listened to the sound of his steady breathing, lulling me to sleep as well.

Jess

Ali drove me through the fog-shrouded shrouded streets, moving farther south to the barren part of Rosewood, leaving behind the smooth, prim streets of gated estates that were perfectly manicured from curb to chimney. Like me, they looked normal on the outside, but beneath the surface lay something much deeper, darker. Behind all the facades were long-buried secrets that were unbelievable.

Secrets you would have to dig up to find them, nearly forgotten.

The sky wrapped around us in a cloudy gray mist, hanging onto us like a blanket. As Alison neared the destination, the houses on the sides of the road began to thin and rambling, renovated fifty-acre horse farms loomed in front of us, surrounded by rolling ranch land and windmills. Here in the south end of Rosewood was a series of rugged, cobblestone streets lined with ancient Victorian houses and cottages. The houses in the old parts of Pennsylvania had brightly colored paint that was peeling off and wood that was slowly wearing down to pieces.

And then the road ended onto an unmarked trail, desolated and abandoned. Ali slowed as she turned onto a dirt pathway with recently fallen pinecones and parked. A large, dark clearing ahead opened up through the mass of tall, overgrown trees and vines. I ignored the compulsion to run, despite the deepening shadows of the forest. They held secrets, hurt wounds that never fully healed.

I stepped out and hesitated warily at the edge of the woods, scanning through the encroaching darkness that surrounded us, wondering what was lurking beyond.

I heard Ali's car door slam, and looked over to see her starting for the dark forest. "Come on. If we want to make it before sundown, we'd better go now."

My mouth gaped open as the slow realization dawned on me. "We're going to see _him_ aren't we?"

"Yes." She wouldn't look at me.

I hurried over a moss-covered log to catch up to her, waves of fury rolling off my limbs. "What could he possibly do that would ensure Jonny doesn't find me here?"

Ali whirled around, her eyes flashing. "I don't know! But what I do know is that I won't let him hurt you again. We're running out of options."

I let out a long breath, giving in. "Fine. Lead the way."

When I followed Ali through the close enclosure of trees and shrubs, I caught something shimmering on one of the red-barked trees. Fourth of July streamers still hung from its branches, drooping down. Carved into the base of the tree were the initials _J + J_. A canopy of bright green moss hung from one of the lower branches, nearly concealing the initials. I tore my eyes away quickly, my cheeks burning from the memory.

They say telling the truth will set you free, but that wasn't an option for me. If I told someone my secrets, everything I loved would be destroyed, obliterating into nothing. Too many lives were at stake; I couldn't risk it. Even if I did tell, no one would believe me. They'd think I was making it up because they thought I was screwed up, or a liar just like Ali used to be and maybe I was. Once a liar, always a liar.

One look at me and that's all everyone in this town would see: a replica of Ali, a perfect imitation of her right down to its genetic markers. Like I was her. One deceitful, the other distrustful. One blonde, one brunette. Ali and Jess, two beings, one soul. It felt like I was at constant war with myself over the two parts of me. Good, bad. Split in half.

One might wonder how Alison became Ali, creating a different version of herself that was yet to be defined. Then one day, she stepped into the darkness, letting it swallow her until eventually she couldn't find the strength or the will to come back into the light. That was when CeCe created her monster, building it and perfecting it into a clone of herself. And when she was done, I didn't recognize who Ali was, who she had become. It had started before I could even stop it. And so I stood there helpless, watching as CeCe taught Ali all her evil tricks.

But who could I possibly confess a secret like that to? All it would take was one moment to take this place down, and I was a part of it. People thought the DiLaurentis family had secrets, well they had never met me. And the evidence was right in front of them. You just had to know where to look.

It all started with my father. Every night, he came home, drowned himself in a bottle of liquor or vodka, and fell into his favorite brown leather chair of silence to watch the Sounders game. It was where he could tread the suffocating loneliness without having to feel it. What I would give to have that kind of freedom. In the Ohio State Police Department, my father was a tough but fair detective, highly respected and liked by the town of Fairfield. Everyone except for the Callahan's that is, who were the only ones that could see past his proud manner and smug smiles. At home with me, he didn't try to hide his true nature, his bad habits. The strained relationship with his wife, the affection he denied his daughter, the shattered family that he destroyed. A blind, red fury hated him for what he did to us, what he did to me. What he continued to do.

My dad was so cold and controlling, I couldn't get out. I used to be his little girl, he used to love me, his innocent little flower. That was until he ripped it away from me, forced me to keep secrets tucked away from my mom. Secrets that she already knew.

We didn't have a lot, just a simple house with a backyard and a room of my own. But there were no family photos on the walls. It was almost like no family ever lived here. And maybe it didn't. Or maybe I was lying to myself and there was a much darker secret by whatever created me. There were no albums with pictures of my parents when I was born, or of my grandparents. It was like they were ripped out to replace something less painful. My memories of it were always vague, and I couldn't understand why.

On the outside, everyone saw us as a typical, normal family. They never suspected what was really going on. My mom was never home and my dad worked late most nights. Parents were supposed to protect you and hold you, and tell you everything was going to be okay. I didn't even know what normal was anymore. No one knew how deeply my mother's rejection hurt me. How it affected my father when she was gone, energizing his anger towards me and that every slap made it harder for me to breathe, to swim back up. I was drowning, falling into a state of numbness. They didn't know that because my mother didn't love my father anymore, she no longer loved me either. I knew what she saw whenever she looked at me: a man who broke her.

Ever since my dad started hurting me, my mom was never around. Though I suspected the real reason was to hide away from _him_. She'd become scared, weak, easy to break. It made me want to scream. I craved for her affection, but she closed herself off from me. My mother didn't know how to love anymore. Would she love me again if I looked more like my dad? Would she come back?

No one could ever understand me. The biter realization was that I was screwed up, but I was okay with it as long as it kept me numb. It helped create a wall between me and the rest of the world, keeping love out. No chance of getting hurt. The truth is, I think my mom just didn't want to be around _me_. She couldn't stand to see the ever-present hurt in my eyes because she blamed me for the pain my dad caused her. She made me so angry sometimes, angry that she could hide away from me. The only person in this world I wanted to be close to was my mother, and she distanced herself from me. It was like I was invisible. Most of the time I could drift through the days, pretending I didn't want to be held or touched. But then without warning, the need I tried pushing down swarmed its way back up. I could only keep my iron-steel armor up for so long before it cracked.

So I turned to drugs to help keep me going. When I took that hit, it was always so fast, easy, out of control. It helped me forget everything else and set me free. Ecstasy, Heroin, Speed, Crack. Whatever the name, it was all the same. And once it got a hold of you, it would never let you go. Once the drugs took over my life, there was no stopping it. I would do anything for it. Life was harder without it, complicated. Ricky was the first guy who ever introduced me to drugs and made me crave them, who led me down the path to destruction. Before him, it was like I was swimming in a fast riptide, struggling to get in the right direction to safety, but couldn't. Or waking from the sweetest dream to find yourself in the middle of a nightmare. I was just a bad accident waiting to happen. And once I'd plunged into the world of drugs, I was no longer the same girl everyone once knew. Driven and ambitious high school senior, loyal friend, easy to use. I'd morphed into someone else, the part of myself that wanted the drugs.

No matter how hard I tried to fight it, the need for drugs was too strong. When I was under the sweet high, I could accomplish anything, was stronger, could function against the misery and chaos. I needed it to help me escape my personal hell on earth, at home with my father. I needed the drugs to feel alive. It numbed me to the pain of reality. But now, no matter how strong the impulse was to take a hit, I could never go back. I couldn't let myself be taken by the destruction of drugs and its altered reality again. I wouldn't. The temptation and the memories of the person I'd let myself become was too painful.

But it hadn't always been that way. Things used to be much different a long time ago. My parents were still in love. At least I thought they were. I recalled giggling at them as they held hands and kissed. I remembered how I used to beg them to tell me the story of how they met over and over.

My mom always started with when she was in college. She grew up in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, when she went to Brown, the best university in New York. She had a boyfriend in high school and they were going to the same college together, and even had plans to get married afterwards and start a family. He was studying criminal law there, where he soon met my dad. Then my dad would say from the moment he met my mother, he knew she was the one for him and he just had to have her. And all he could think about was this varsity jock's gorgeous girlfriend, hoping she'd give him a chance. At first, she wouldn't give him the time of day. But then something changed between them. My mom and dad had grown closer somehow. And my mom would interrupt, saying she didn't realize how truly handsome my father was until he defended her in their psychology class together, when the professor tried intimidating her for not knowing the answer to one of the Psych questions from his lecture on mental behavior. After that, she didn't quite see a future with her boyfriend anymore. A year later, my mom found out she was pregnant with me and she moved back home with my father to raise the baby.

Then we'd all laugh and my parents would kiss and everything was perfect in our little world. But just like everything else in my life, that was a lie. My entire existence was a lie. That was before my dad fractured my world, tore it apart, sending it into a black hole of darkness. That was before the day he stole my innocence. He'd put his hands on me, battering and scarring my body to the point that not even a surgeon could repair. After that, my mom didn't love my dad anymore, though he pleaded with her, promising her he'd change. She didn't believe his lies, and neither did I. We both knew my father would never stop hurting me, wouldn't let me go.

Something happened to him that made him change. He wasn't my father anymore. This man was a monster, created from pure evil. I didn't know what pushed him over the edge. I wanted to know what exactly created not only this darkness inside of my dad, but what created me, heiress of the darkness. I'd lost any hope of fixing the damage to our family, but if there was even a small chance of finding out who I was, I needed to know.

But then things got worse. When I was ten years old, my mother was working one of her late shifts at the hospital during a cold, winter's night. My dad always hated it when she worked late; he preferred her to be here at home so he could fuel the fire raging inside of him. She was the second most trusted and dependable ER nurse at the Fairfield Hospital. Because of my her work schedule, I rarely got to see my mom, aside from periodic checkups on homework, reminders to clean my room, and dinners. It made me anxious when she wasn't home, but my mom's job was what was going to pay for the pricey tuition of my dream school, Yale.

Instead of watching the first snowflakes of the winter fall outside on the porch like I did every year, I sat in my room by the window shivering, waiting for my mom to come home. It was December, and the roads were usually heavy with snow at this time of year. As I pulled my knees tightly against my chest on the windowseat, I heard footsteps, loud and powerful as thunder. I shot up, my heart pounding.

My father stood in the doorway, a half-empty beer bottle in his hand. The button on his shirt was sloppily undone, revealing some of his muscular chest.

He was so handsome it was hard to believe that he could be my father, all cut lines and strong features. He had a proud full mouth and piercing blue eyes that seemed like they could cut right through you, with beautiful, dark blonde curls that you wanted to run your fingers through. But when I looked into his eyes, I didn't see myself reflecting back. I saw a stranger. It was as if I was living someone else's life.

My dad took a long swig and looked at me with hard, angry eyes. "What are you doing over there? You know you're not supposed to keep the door closed when you're in here alone." It was that cold, controlled voice.

He was craving to fight with someone weaker than my mom since she wasn't home yet. "Sorry, daddy. I won't do it again," I said.

"That's more like it." My dad crossed the short distance between us to press a kiss to my forehead.

The stubble on his cheek felt prickly against my forehead, his breath hot on my skin. I could smell the strong odor of alcohol on his breath.

I swallowed hard, trying not to cringe. If my dad saw how scared I was, he'd be furious. I didn't want to think about what might happen if he noticed.

When my dad finally pulled away, he grabbed my chin roughly in between his fingers, jerking my face towards him. "Now come to the living room and watch the Sounders game with your dad."

My eyes started to water. "Yes, daddy."

"That's my good girl."

His wish was my command. I had to obey his orders or else I'd be punished. My legs trembled as I followed him out to the large living room.

I settled onto the plush couch while my father sat down in his chair, greedily downing another bottle of beer. His favorite was hard whisky, though the smell lingered on his breath. Vodka was good because it didn't make your breath smell, which was why my dad drank it in the mornings so no one would know he was nursing a hangover.

I eyed him nervously. He sat with his arms folded over the arms of the brown leather chair, eyes steeled at the TV, looking more like a monarch claiming his throne than a father.

My dad caught my gaze and smiled at me. The irritation from his eyes had faded away. I plastered a smile onto my face, hoping it looked convincing. He liked it when I smiled. When he turned back to the Sounders soccer game, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

As we delved into the second half of the game, I anxiously watched the clock. Nine-fifteen. My mother still had yet to return and it was getting darker by the minute. Soon, the snow and ice would make it difficult to drive on the roads. I tried not to stare at the phone, resisting the itching temptation to call her. I wondered if my mom had gotten held up at the hospital with a patient, or if she was stuck in traffic.

At halftime, I glanced at the clock again. There was forty minutes now until my mom would be back. Forty minutes until I could breathe again. But as the minutes turned into hours, my throat grew dry and sticky when I realized she wasn't coming home before eleven. I knew if I wanted to escape, I had to do it now.

I carefully stood up from my spot on the couch. "I have to go to bed now. See you tomorrow."

As I turned for the stairs, my dad grabbed my arm, his nails digging into me. "Don't think about running off on me again, little girl. You know how I feel about you leaving this house."

I nodded shakily and he released his hold on my arm. Once in my room, I felt the urge to climb down through my window, like I did a week ago. But I knew better now than to do that. If I tried to run away again, my dad would kill me.

One of the many times I had run away was on a biter cold night like this one. He'd quickly found me hiding in Josh's bedroom and dragged me home. Once he shut all the curtains, my dad crossed the room and beat me until I cried. I could feel all the pain and anger he felt towards me with each punch. Sometimes it seemed as though just the sight of me made him mad. I looked up at him through the blur of tears as he continued to hit me, confused, and wondering what I ever did to deserve this. Even when I begged him to stop. And then he slapped his hand hard across my face, smacking my head against the hardwood floor, and everything went dark.

Feeling hopeless, I dressed for bed and crawled underneath the covers. My mother didn't come home at eleven like she said she would. When her car finally pulled up into the driveway, I snuck out of my bedroom to hug my mom, relieved to finally have her home. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, how scared I was from being alone with daddy all night. But as I neared the stairs, I heard two voices yelling from the living room. My parents were at it already, fighting like stray dogs.

"Where were you?" my dad shouted.

"I told you, I was working the graveyard shift at the hospital," my mom said.

He scoffed. "You think I don't know what's going on here? Who were you with all night?"

I heard her sigh in exasperation. "You've been drinking."

"Who is it?!"

"No one!" my mom answered.

A few seconds later, I heard a sharp slap echoing throughout the hall. I wasn't naïve. I knew what was happening. My father was hitting my mom, had been for months ever since she'd been promoted to head nurse at the hospital. I gripped the bars of the stairway railing and shut my eyes, feeling helpless, willing it to stop.

"You think I'm going to let you walk away from me?" my dad threatened. "If you leave me, I will destroy everything you have. No money, no job, and I will take our daughter so far away from this place that you will never see her again."

My mom breathed heavily from the assault. "I don't care what you do to me, I won't let you take her."

"You won't have a choice," my father told my mother. "If you take me to court, I'll make sure every judge in this town will tell the jury that you're an unfit mother who neglects her daughter."

"Why do you even think she runs away in the first place?" my mom retorted. "She's trying to get away from you!"

In the next moment, I heard glass shattering against the far wall and a loud thump. "Where do you think she gets it from? I told you she shouldn't go to public school!"

Then he started throwing things. Eventually, after my dad was finished slapping and kicking my mother, they wandered off into different rooms. My father was no doubt in his study, enjoying a glass of whiskey from his own personal liquor cabinet. And my mother spent the rest of the night crying in her bedroom.

After it had gotten really bad, my mom promised me that she'd make enough money so that we could get out of Ohio and start a new life without my father. I knew I had to tell someone what my father was doing to me, but if anyone knew how screwed up I really was, I'd lose everything. I didn't want to risk anyone being near me, too afraid to let people in. So I kept my walls of armor up, protecting myself. Because if they did, they would see the real me. I had friends, but they only saw the person I'd created to keep them away. I kept the real me locked away where no one could touch her.

When she finally did come out, she poured onto the fear-ridden ground in a huge, gigantic mess. I was always afraid, and I hated that. I just wanted to kill that feeling and be free. No one else bothered to see the person underneath, even when I preferred to be alone. The only person who did truly see me was Josh. He saw past the rough exterior, broke through my shell.

Josh had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. I was six years old when the Callahans first moved in across the street from my house. I was sitting outside on the front steps of the walkway, watching the movers, when I saw a boy with blonde hair and eyes the color of blue marbles. I assumed he would just ignore me like everyone else. I had never been very good at friendships; instead of inviting people into my life, I pushed them away. I was too prickly, too gutsy, too outspoken for my own good, and I tended to have a hard time trusting people. In my world, everyone was either an enemy or a suspect. I'd never had a best friend except for Alison, so I didn't think I had enough room for anyone else in my heart. My life was too cold and dark to let anyone in.

But then the new boy walked right up to me and smiled, looking cuter than anything in a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and scuffed black high tops. I waited for him to laugh at me or make some shrewd comment about my bruises like all the other kids did.

"Hey," he said. "My name's Josh."

I remembered thinking the boy seemed out of place, like he wasn't from around here. Just like I was. And I got that familiar feeling that made my insides fuzzy and warm.

"I'm Jess," I said boldly.

He nodded, then sat down next to me on the steps, crossing that short distance between his house and mine. Two worlds, two unlikely people getting to know each other. We didn't talk right away, but I liked it better that way. For a while, we just lay down in the grass of my backyard, watching the clouds drifting overhead in the sky. All my life I'd done things by what my heart told me to do. But now I had Josh. And then after that, nothing else ever looked the same again.

Spencer

After taking a nice snuggly nap together in the lake house's master bedroom, I woke up nestled in Toby's chest with his arms holding me securely to him. As though he was afraid if he let go, he would lose me. I looked up at his peaceful, sleeping face and inched further up to him, pressing my lips to his.

I parted his lips with mine, trying to kiss him awake. After a few seconds, I felt his lips moving against mine, finally waking up. My fingers grazed his cheeks as I deepened the kiss.

Toby breathed heavily and stroked my mouth with his soft lips, making me quiver.

I finally broke away from the kiss to gaze at him, keeping my hands on his face. His eyes grew soft with adoration that sent chills down my spine.

I leaned myself into his body, sighing in content. "Hi."

Toby locked his fingers together over my back, holding me to him. I flinched in agony as a hot, sharp pain shot up my lower back.

"Hi," he murmured.

I laid my head against his chest, stroking his skin with my fingers. "I missed you so much."

Toby tightened his arms around me and started to stroke my hair. "I missed you more." He pressed his face into my hair and breathed in deeply.

I leaned in to brush my lips against his stubbly cheek, which exploded into a series of kisses across his face.

Toby smiled, bringing my face just inches from his. "I love you, but I need to go soak in the tub first. Will you join me?"

"Will you hold me?" I asked.

"Of course. I'll even rub your shoulders."

I rolled over onto my stomach on top of him and wrapped my arms around his torso, hugging him to me. "My back is actually killing me right now, so that would be perfect. I can give you a rub down, too."

Toby slithered his hands down to my butt. "You need it more than I do. You're the one that's pregnant."

"I want to. Plus you work so hard." I slid my hands up to his biceps, squeezing them gently.

Toby groaned. "Okay, but only if I get to massage you first."

I grinned. "Deal."

Toby helped me out of bed, and I followed him into the master bathroom. He leaned over the mosaic-tiled deck of the oversize, deep-filled Jacuzzi to run the warm water, waiting as he tested the temperature first. The lights were dimmed with a soft, light glow with pink vanilla-scented candles along the tiled deck. And a crystal chandelier hung above the gorgeous beamed ceiling.

I heard a high-pitched buzzing sound as Toby turned on the jets, blowing out with bubbles. When he stepped back, I gasped. The tub was filled with about a dozen red rose pedals scattered around, floating in the water. Before I could say something, Toby had stripped off his boxers and was standing inside the water-filled tub, holding out his hand to me.

I took his hand and slowly stepped into the water, trying not to slip. The smell of roses and vanilla swirled around my face. Toby helped steady me and then sat back against the tub before I settled in between his legs.

I leaned back into his chest as the water filled the tub around us. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

Toby wrapped his arms around me, hugging his knees at my hips. "Mmm, I do know. I love you, too." He kissed my cheek.

I leaned down and kissed his arm. "Thank you. Not just for this, but you being here."

Toby brushed his cheek against mine. "You deserve it. You deserve the stars and the moon."

I relaxed into his body and sighed, closing my eyes. The steam from the water eased my muscles and the tub jets whirled into me, soothing my aching back. Toby moved his hands to my shoulders and began to rub big, gentle circles. He rubbed into the muscles of my neck next and then drifted down to the middle of my back, pressing all of his strength to rub me down. I groaned.

I felt Toby's lips at my ear. "How does that feel?"

"Amazing," I murmured. "Don't stop."

Toby dug his hands more firmly to my back, using his knuckles to dig deeper into the little muscles around my spine. I leaned my neck to the side, moaning with satisfaction. When he moved his hand around the front of my body to my ribs, my lips parted in another moan. His thumbs rubbed below my breasts and I gasped. He was massaging me in just the right places.

Toby's hands reached down below my waist and suddenly his hands were grazing my buttcheeks, digging a little with his nails. My mouth hung open, moaning fiercely. I felt so hot and radiant. Toby made me feel beautiful.

When he was done, Toby pulled me against him again, hugging me to him. "So, what's on the agenda for the afternoon? We could sit by the fireplace and watch a movie. Or read French poetry or play Scrabble."

I ached to tell him yes, but then I remembered the bras I could no longer fit into.

I gently squeezed his arms. "That sounds so wonderful, but I actually need some new bras. My old ones don't fit anymore." I looked away bashfully, blushing.

"I can do that," he responded.

I smiled. "Really? You would really go shopping for maternity bras with me?"

Toby turned his face to mine so that I was forced to look at him. "Spencer, I'll always take care of you. You're the most important thing to me in this world."

I leaned in to touch my lips against his. "Thank you."

Toby kissed my shoulder. "I'll always give my girl everything. Just promise me you'll sit with me by the fireplace later."

"I promise," I said sincerely. "But right now, it's my turn to massage you."

He turned to me. "Are you sure? I can keep rubbing."

"I'm sure."

Before long, Toby was sitting in the water with his bare back to me as I rubbed his tired shoulders, my knees hugging his ribcage. I felt an excited rush at the feeling of his body pressed up against me; our nakedness made me hot all over.

I kneaded my hands deep into the tissues along his spine and Toby groaned. I leaned over and bit him gently on the shoulder. I wanted him so much.

Unable to help myself, I sucked on his neck, flicking the tip of my tongue against his skin. A warm, pleasant feeling oozed through me. It flowed through me like the most addictive wine, making me want more.

I continued to rub his shoulders. "I want you to make love to me," I whispered.

Toby moaned with pleasure.

"I want you so much. I'm just feeling so…" I rested my cheek against his shoulder, unable to finish the sentence.

"I know," he whispered. "I want you, too. Always."

I squeezed his shoulders, rubbing my hands across his taut muscles. Toby's head fell to the side, moaning softly. "Mmmm, that feels so good."

I rubbed his back, massaging down to the middle. I started to dig in more deeply, pressing my hands into his back.

"Spencer, that feels incredible," Toby sighed.

I turned him around to face me, fitting my naked legs around his waist pleasurably. Toby looked at my body long and slowly, admiring me. I loved it when he looked at me while I was naked. I pressed my lips firmly to his, mingling my tongue with his. The sensation of his lips moving against mine was so pleasuring that it sent shivers throughout my entire body. I could feel Toby's heart pounding against my own.

Toby pulled me into a hug then, slippery and wet, out of breath as he buried his face into my neck.

I stroked his back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he gasped. "I just got carried away."

I slid my arms around his neck and tightened them. "I'm here."

Toby ran his hands along my arms affectionately, kissing them all over. "I know."

I buried my face into the warmth of his neck. After a moment, he pulled out of our embrace. "C'mon, let's go get dressed."

Toby untangled himself from me and helped me out of the tub, wrapping a towel around me. He lifted me up and hugged me to him as he carried me to our bedroom. But all I could think about as we changed into our clothes in our room were the sex toys I'd brought on our trip and how we would play with them…

The sky was a perfect crystal-blue in the late afternoon when we drove towards the city, and the air smelled like apples and wildflowers. It was the perfect day to go maternity shopping.

We were driving to the mall in Philadelphia to buy new bras since my old ones no longer fit anymore. It was a relief to finally be getting some proper maternity clothes, but my body was changing so rapidly that it made me feel anxious and uncomfortable. The only bright spot in all this was knowing Toby would be there with me.

I shifted in my seat of Toby's truck, tugging at the bra that had suddenly become too tight. Toby noticed.

"We're almost there," he assured me, reaching for my hand. He began rubbing small circles onto my hand soothingly.

When we finally arrived at the mall, Toby parked in one of the larger parking spaces. He met me by the front of the truck and curled his hand around mine. It felt warm and comforting holding his hand.

We headed straight towards one of the bigger maternity stores in the south wing. It was packed with pretty girls shopping for the-end-of-summer sales. All the girls were checking out Toby, and I even caught one of them wink at him. I tried to ignore the familiar, hot flash of jealously that rippled through me, especially when he looked away, pretending not to notice. Toby was gorgeous; of course girls would want to flirt with him.

Toby wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him, and kissed my hair. A pang of guilt stabbed at me for feeling so irrationally jealous in the first place.

Finally, we walked into a store called _Motherhood Maternity_. It was full of maternity clothing, bras, shoes, nursing breast pumps, and baby toys and furniture. Toby followed close behind as I moved into the lingerie section, searching the racks for appropriate maternity bras. There was a wide assortment of bras, all by brand and style. Immediately, I began rummaging through the ones I liked most and was able to find some to try on. Toby found a few more for me as well, including some maternity baby doll slips for us, and then we slipped into one of the dressing rooms. He sat on a chair inside the room as he watched me change.

Slowly, I peeled off my bra and sighed. If I had to wear it any longer, my chest was going to explode. I stretched my arms up over my head and arched my back, feeling a surge of relief. I was acutely aware that Toby was watching me, knowing full well that I was partially naked, and I smiled.

I tried on a basic nude bra that Toby handed me, which fit my chest nicely. I felt the bra cups with my hands, noticing how much bigger my breasts had grown. In the mirror, it cut across them appealingly. The fabric was very soft and smoothed out against my skin, but I couldn't reach the back strap to clasp it into place.

I started to pull at one of the bra straps at my shoulders, but Toby was already behind me, hooking it into place. After adjusting them, his hand slowly slid down my lower back and lingered just below my chest, pulling me against him. I melted into him and sighed, reveling in his touch. It felt as though a thousand magnetic sparks were cascading through my limbs, and every touch from Toby was intensified.

Suddenly, I felt a wet moisture along my breasts. When I looked down, I noticed a yellowish, thick substance leaking out from my nipples and soaking the inside of the bra. Trembling, my breathing grew heavier and my heart sped up with panic. _What was happening to me? Is this supposed to be normal, or am I going crazy?_

Toby tugged at my hands gently and turned me around. I quickly pulled up the fabric of the bra further up my breasts to hide the stain before he could see it.

Toby grinned at me, cocking an eyebrow. "I got something for you."

I looked at him curiously, waiting. Then he pulled out something from behind his back. Attached on the hanger was the raciest, sexiest bra and panty set I had ever seen. It was small and thin to the extreme, with see-through baby blue lace. Toby's eyes turned serious, full of wanting. I smiled, pleased.

"This is for later," Toby murmured. He leaned down to kiss my neck. I closed my eyes and moaned.

He traveled his lips further up my neck, licking lightly along my earlobe. "I can't wait to see you in it." He captured my ear gently in between his teeth and nibbled.

I let out a small gasp. My pelvis grew very hot, my inner thighs tingling with desire. My mouth gaped open wide in a moan, and I couldn't control what happened next.

As I allowed the temptation of Toby to take over, drops of more fluid escaped from my breasts. It flowed swiftly this time, trickling down to my stomach, alarming me. I jumped away from him.

Toby furrowed his brow in concern. "Spencer, what's wrong?"

My lower lip quivered, threatening to lose it. I tried to swallow back the lump that had formed in my throat with no success. Before I could stop it, water was filling my eyes.

He stepped closer to me. "Spencer, I love you. Whatever it is, you can tell me." His eyes softened as he pleaded with me to open up to him.

More tears welled up in my eyes when I heard the desperation in Toby's voice. I hadn't meant to hurt him.

"I'm leaking," I said quietly. I felt my lower lip tremble again.

Toby stared at my breasts respectively, and then met my eyes. Realization morphed into his face. I couldn't hold back my sobs anymore. I covered my hand over my mouth as the tears ran rapidly down my cheeks.

"Hey, Spence, come here." Before I could protest, Toby wrapped both his arms around me and cradled me against his chest. The sound of his strong heartbeat calmed me, and I started to feel myself relax into him.

"Shhh, it's okay," Toby whispered. He began rubbing my back. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his shoulder.

I pulled away to wipe the tears from my face. My body felt all wrong. The only person who could make me feel better was Toby. I thought I could explain everything to him about how I was feeling, but I was afraid that the second I did, he wouldn't want to touch me anymore. He wouldn't want me.

Toby pressed his hands to my face. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"Because I was afraid…" My voice was taut with emotion. "I was afraid if you knew then you wouldn't be attracted to me anymore."

His eyes softened again. "Spencer, you're pregnant. It's normal to be leaking."

"It is?"

"Yes." He stroked his thumb across my cheek. "You're always attractive to me. _Always._ "

I touched my lips gently to his, and he kissed me back hard. Toby gently held my face in his hands, moving his lips lovingly over mine. I broke the kiss to wrap my arms tightly around him, burying my face into his neck. He held me to him, stroking my hair with his fingers.

After I finished trying on maternity bras, Toby took the rejects back to their racks, but let me wear the one I'd stained. We headed over to the cash register to pay, and Toby grabbed some nursing pads and back bra extenders as well. He walked close beside me as we walked out of the store, entwining his fingers through mine again while carrying my shopping bag in the other.

When we made it to the truck, Toby opened the passenger door for me and helped buckle me in. He reached over to put on my seat belt securely, but safely, around my pregnant stomach. His hands brushed along my waist, making my heart stutter as he attached the buckle and shut the door behind me. I watched him walk around the front of the truck to the driver's side, still amazed that I could have found someone so wonderful. I could never get used to it.

Once inside, Toby turned the key and the engine roared to life. He pulled out through the traffic, glancing behind him in his blind spot, and then drove carefully around to head toward the country road.

I was so happy that my body was buzzing with warmth. At the intersections, we'd steal a few moments to kiss. I parted my lips for him, murmuring in content as his tender ones met mine; Toby's gentle kisses made my heart race. When the light turned green again, he pulled away and I groaned. I wanted to be closer to him.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and scooted in closer to Toby so I could snuggle with him. He put an arm around my shoulder, not seeming to care one bit that I wasn't wearing a seatbelt. We were slowing down now, pulling up in front of the lake house. The lights inside the house were turned off, exactly where we had left it. Everything looked normal, but it felt the opposite. It was as though I'd been woken from a dream. In four months, Toby and I would have a girl. Our own little girl with ten fingers and ten little toes. It seemed all too good to be real.

Toby stopped the truck, but neither of us moved. I looked out at the pink-stained sunset; I hadn't realized how dark it had gotten. I was surprised by the time when I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "I didn't realize how late it was," I whispered.

Toby looked at the western horizon, obscured by clouds. I stared at him as he gazed out the windshield longingly. It seemed as though there was something on his mind, but he was too afraid to say it out loud. Then his eyes shifted back to mine. "We should get inside."

I nodded, aching to touch him. After everything we've been through, all I wanted was Toby back in bed with me, where I could kiss him all night and snuggle with him under the covers.

I gathered my bags of maternity bras before getting out of the truck. When my feet touched the ground, I was shocked by the warm chills on my skin from the spring night air. Toby was already at the front door of the cabin, waiting for me.

I took his outstretched hand and stepped up onto the doorstep. He reached for the cabin's keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door. Holding my hand in his, Toby led me inside the dark, cold lake house.

Immediately, I leaned into his chest, shivering. Toby wrapped his arms around me, rubbing my back and shoulders to keep me warm.

His lips tickled my ear. "I'll turn on the thermostat." He buried his face deeply into my neck, nuzzling me affectionately.

I slid my arms around his waist. "No, don't. I have other ideas on how we can keep warm." I raised an eyebrow at him suggestively.

Toby smiled and pressed his lips to mine. "Then how about I go grab a few blankets from the den and I'll meet you in our room?"

"Don't take too long," I purred.

"Two minutes," he promised.

While Toby went downstairs to the den to get us some blankets, I ascended the stairs to our room and pulled out the lingerie that he had gotten for me out of the shopping bag. I left the lights off as I stripped down, slipping into the sexy pair of baby blue, lacy panties and matching bra. I thrilled knowing that Toby and I were going to have sex tonight; we were going to have some fun. My hormones intensified from the thought, ranging at its highest peak.

I brushed my teeth thoroughly in the bathroom mirror until they were pearly white and then ran a brush through my hair. When I was done, I stepped back and looked at my reflection. My skin was glowing and radiant, and my hair shone in full locks past my shoulders. The blue-lace bra cut across my newly defined chest, revealing the contours of my breasts. The thin fabric clung tightly to them so that my chest was pushed up, but it wasn't uncomfortable. And the matching see-through panties was laced up with thin, satin ribbons at the sides, where it rested low below my hips and exposed the better part of my buttcheeks, nearly revealing all of me. My heart warmed with overwhelming joy when my eyes moved down to the very noticeable bump on my stomach.

I moved my hand over my small, protruding pregnant belly, noticing how much it had grown. I could feel her growing inside me. Even at twenty weeks, it was hard to believe that soon she'd be in my arms. I couldn't imagine doing any of this without Toby.

I placed both hands over the bump and rubbed the spot, holding her gently. "Kick for mommy," I murmured to my stomach.

Our baby was growing stronger by the day, but still she hadn't kicked for the first time yet, and I worried if she ever would. If maybe I was doing something wrong to keep her from communicating with me. After a few minutes of no movement, I sighed.

I took a washcloth from the counter sink and rubbed it across my chest, washing away the yellowish stain from when I leaked back in the store. Finally, I walked back into the bedroom. Then I tossed the stained bra into the hamper.

"Spencer, I…" a male voice said, cut off unexpectedly by something.

I spun around, startled. Toby stood in the doorway and froze. His eyes traveled up the length of my body, appraising me, making my skin blaze hotly. My heart pounded.

We stared at each other for a long time. My legs shook as I imagined Toby getting hot and sweaty with me, slowly peeling off my bra and panties, and then kissing my skin when he was finally naked with me…

I locked my eyes on his, transfixed. The room thickened with sexual tension and cackled with a palpable electricity. An ache was slowly building inside of me until it burned my skin and filled me with a strong need to satisfy it.

"You said you wanted to see me in it," I finally whispered.

Toby nodded, but he didn't speak. His eyes were full of lust and desire as his fingers slowly traveled up my stomach, brushing against my skin. Tingles scampered up my spine.

I wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled my face into his neck, kissing him. I felt the muscles in Toby's arms tense in response to my half-naked body. I could feel how badly he wanted to take off my underwear.

When I pulled away, I stared up into Toby's dark blue eyes. His full lips pulled up into a slow, seductive smirk in response. Then he took my face in his hands and pressed his lips against mine.

I kissed him back fiercely, his fingers twisting through my hair. Toby slid his hands underneath the clasp of my bra. I gasped and grabbed at his shirt, tearing it off. I kissed his bare neck and he encircled his arms around my waist.

"Make love to me," I whispered softly into his ear. "I want to be in bed with you."

Those few little words caused Toby to cup the back of my neck and pull me closer to him, kissing me harder and more urgently with a passion I'd never felt before. I pawed at his chest, moving my hands over his neck and into his hair.

Heat flamed my skin as I ran my hands up his stomach and chest. I felt the lean, taut muscles underneath my fingertips, and my breath came out in a sharp gasp. He shivered at my touch.

Abruptly, he grabbed my arms and spun me around, pulling my back against his chest. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck, deeply sucking on my skin. I closed my eyes, moaning. Toby brushed his fingers over my body teasingly as he nibbled on my neck. His touch made my limbs weaken in anticipation, igniting my skin further.

Then his hands were inside my underwear, fondling with the fabric. I melted into him. Toby began stroking the skin there, inching further down below the waistband. I moaned again, and heat flooded my thighs and pelvis. I wanted to be naked with him so badly; I wanted him inside me.

Toby started to push my panties past my hips, but I pulled away from him. Instead, I grabbed his cheeks in my hands and kissed him deeply. Our mouths connected and I could feel his soft, tender lips moving against mine. He snaked his arms around my back, pressing his fingers flat against it. Our hands traveled all over each other's bodies, our shoulders, our backs.

My chest hardened in excitement as I knotted my fingers through Toby's hair. His stomach arched against mine as if my touch brought him to life. I grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him greedily. Toby tasted delicious, like the sweetest candy I'd ever consumed. Next, I pulled at his hands and led him over to the bed. I wanted to make this nice and slow.

I slowly crawled backwards onto the bed, then got onto my knees and hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of my underwear. I pulled them down slightly below my hips, teasing the lace across my skin, and then brought it back up again. Toby's eyes canvassed my whole body, gazing over the light blue lace of my bra and panties. He slowly traced his fingers over the lace cups.

I gave him a seductive smile as I pulled at my panties again, lowering them past my hipbones as if I was going to take them off.

"You're driving me crazy," Toby said in a low voice as he climbed onto the bed after me. His eyes were wonderfully intense as he spoke, his voice smoldering. My pulse raced.

I backed up, feeling incredibly turned on. Toby reached out to lower the straps of my bra and stepped closer, his face only inches from mine. I tried to remember how to breathe as his sweet breath blew in my face. He was so close that I could practically taste him.

He ran his hands over the cheeks of my round butt and squeezed. Within seconds, Toby reached to the hem of my underwear and folded it over, massaging my cheeks slowly and sensually. He was touching me, feeling me. I closed my eyes and arched my neck back, moaning loudly. My mouth fell open widely as the pleasure cascaded through my limbs, boiling my veins hotly.

Then suddenly, he unleashed himself on me and a spew of giggles erupted from both our throats. I could hear the playfulness in his laughter as he forced me down onto my back.

Toby pinned me against the bed with his hips, growling with hungry desire. He rubbed his pelvis closely against mine, moving lower and lower, trying to inch off my panties. I could feel every inch of him moving against me, felt the heat emanating from him.

We were both panting hard and rubbing up against each other, trying to take off the rest of our clothes. I knew he was making me work for it. I twisted my legs around him, squeezing my thighs hard against his waist as he pushed himself onto my body, grinding into me.

Toby began kissing my neck, trailing his lips over the skin at my throat and then moved up my chin. I let out a low groan, and he brushed his lips along my jaw. I couldn't think of anything else but Toby and his lips on my neck. Still, I couldn't be close enough. I wanted to feel his natural body warmth against mine, not the fabric of our clothes.

He crushed his lips aggressively against my eager ones, kissing me wetly. I slipped my tongue into his mouth in response, our lips hot. After what felt like an eternity of smacking and panting noises, Toby turned me over onto my side to unhook the clasp of my bra.

I gasped as Toby began giving me small kisses down the length of my spine. His hands skimmed up my sides, pushing the bra off my chest. The bed shifted, and he was arranging the pillows so that my back was propped up against them comfortably.

Oh, god. This was really happening.

"Wait," I breathed.

Toby panted over me, his eyes clouding over with lust. "What is it?"

I rewrapped my legs around him, and he hardened his hips against mine. Heat flooded my pelvis.

"I brought some toys for us," I said, hormonal from being so close to him. "I was saving them as a surprise for later, but I think now is a good as a time as ever to play with them."

Interest sparked in his eyes. "Where are they?"

I gestured to the bedside table. "Top drawer."

Toby reached over to open the drawer and pulled out a black silk satchel filled with the sex toys I'd brought with us on our trip. Inside was a small black feather, a red silk blindfold, and pink fuzzy handcuffs.

"Hands above your head," he ordered, though his voice was teasing.

"No," I smiled.

Toby took the handcuffs first and eased me down gently against the pillows. He pinned my arms above my head and attached the fuzzy handcuffs around my wrists, leaving them there as he trailed his lips down my neck and moved down slowly. He kissed and licked me all over my body, tasting me. I gasped, loving the way his lips felt on my skin.

As I lay there, I imagined what it would feel like, what he was going to do to me.

Toby slid the blindfold on next, tying it behind my head, and everything went dark. I strained at the handcuffs and groaned. A thrill shivered through my body in excitement when I realized I couldn't escape, making me wet. I was his prisoner.

I hated that I couldn't see him, though I could hear his heavy breathing and the thudding of my heart as he touched me slowly. Toby kissed each of my breasts, pressing his lips against them, and then slid down to kiss my stomach. He ran his tongue all over my navel, moving his lips across my hips, kissing and sucking and nibbling. I breathed wildly, my stomach heaving up and down from the passion of it, leaving me breathless. All I could feel was him.

Then I felt something soft and light brushing against my nipples, moving along every inch of my breasts. His touch caused a delicious quiver, arousing me further. I leaned my head to the side and moaned.

Slowly, Toby moved the feather down the length of my stomach and glided it to my hips, lingering at my navel. An electric heat spread through me, reaching to a naughty place deep inside.

I clutched at the sheets desperately. "I need…" I whimpered.

Toby immediately covered his mouth with mine to silence me. He ran the feather in between my thighs, brushing it along my most sensitive parts. My whole body shook, buzzing with anticipation. I heard the bed squeak, and the feather was gone. He brushed his fingers along the lace of my panties and lingered at my skin, making my heart race. I was in nothing but my underwear, my bra lying in a heap of our clothes on the floor.

Toby slipped his hands beneath my panties, massaging my hips as he shimmied them off my thighs. I'd never felt so naked and vulnerable in my life. But I trusted deep in my heart that Toby would never hurt me.

He began moving further south on the bed, at the junction of my thighs, and I knew what he was doing. It was something so sinful, so naughty, that it was probably frowned upon by Catholic churches. Toby pressed his lips against my inner thigh, lightly licking my skin. Then he lifted my legs over his shoulders and moved his head in between them, and I felt his tongue brushing against the soft inside of my thighs–tasting and teasing–and then he was in _there_.

A strong pull began its rapid climb. The warm pleasure burst in the center of my body and flowed straight to my head. I wanted to writhe, to throw myself into it. I threw my head back and cried out. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. I couldn't hear anything but Toby and the deafening sound of my erratic heartbeat in my ears.

Several loud groans escaped my lips as I clutched the comforter again. It felt wonderful and incredible what Toby was doing to me, like devouring an entire box of sweet and delicious chocolates and wanting more.

And then he undid the handcuffs from around my wrists and pulled off the blindfold, freeing me. I turned my eyes to his questionably.

"I want to see you," Toby whispered gently.

I softened at his words. Toby leaned back to roam his eyes over my body, memorizing every inch. I dove for the buttons on his pants and then hastily grabbed at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down over his hips as I undressed him. The bed shifted again as I shoved him against the pillows. I kissed him all over his naked hips and navel, over the muscles in his stomach and chest, finally finding his neck. Toby moaned in pleasure.

I began kissing him further down his chest when he grasped my hips, grabbing at me hungrily. Toby sat up and hooked my legs behind his back, holding me against him. My lips parted in a gasp against his mouth from the sudden advance, and then he was rolling me over onto the mattress.

When we got underneath the covers, Toby supported his weight on top of me. We were both naked, and my heart pounded in excitement. The feeling of our bodies naked and so close felt so right and natural. It didn't even feel like we were having sex; it felt like we had connected after a long time apart and were now just meeting again, molding together as one.

Toby slowly brushed his lips at the corner of my mouth, stopping at my lower trembling one. I whimpered against his lips, overcome with need and wanting. Then, powerless to stop myself, I captured his lower lip between my teeth and nibbled. He released a low growl as he caressed his mouth to mine, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against my own.

Without leaving my mouth, Toby slowly and gently moved his hands all over my bare skin, making me breathe heavily. I let myself get lost in him, enjoying the feeling of my body so close to his. He touched my most sensitive regions, brushing his lips along my throat to my chest, kissing the bulge in my stomach, and then moved down between my legs. I trembled beneath him, and I felt him growing excited.

Toby stopped to stroke my cheek, his eyes soft. "Tell me if I hurt you, okay?"

I couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet. "Okay."

Toby touched his lips to my forehead. Then very slowly and deliberately, he trailed his hand across my belly, stroking my navel, and grazed it underneath my thigh. My legs shook with desire as he kneeled between them. He was getting ready. Toby gently spread apart my thighs to enter me, settling in between my throbbing legs.

With my mouth still connected to his, I gripped his shoulders. I felt Toby press himself closer to me, our limbs entwining. My breathing picked up. I knew he was getting close.

"Oh god, Spencer." Toby dug his fingers deep into my thigh.

He bent his head to trail his lips along my jaw, reaching to my neck, and in the next moment he was inside me. Moaning, I moved my leg out from underneath the covers that had twisted around our entwined bodies and bent it hard against his hip, enjoying him. I slid my foot along his back teasingly as he moved on top of me, and Toby groaned.

He moved into me slowly and sensually as I lay there panting. The yearning was almost unbearable. I twined my arms around his neck and bent my knees at his hips, and he had his legs wrapped around my waist. I let out deep, satisfied moans as Toby thrust into me. Need coiled in the pit of my stomach, knotting tightly inside me. I needed more.

My body quivered into the most intense orgasm I'd ever had and I yelped. He stopped, and the quiver stilled.

"Please!" I cried.

Very slowly, Toby started to move again, out and then in. Agonizingly slowly. My back arched as the pleasure built. And then I was calling his name, panting and gasping, begging. Toby brought out something in me that no one else could, fulfilling my darkest desires.

"Please," I begged. "Oh god, Toby, don't stop!"

The knot twisted tighter, wound higher, and then broke in release. I threw my arms back and closed my eyes as I screamed in pleasure. He felt so good that I didn't want it to end.

Toby braced his strong, loving arms around me and formed a cage, following my movements. My whole body was pulsing with pleasurable satisfaction. I dug my fingers hard into his back and squeezed my thighs against his waist, wanting more.

When he pushed into me, I couldn't breathe. I was so consumed by him that I couldn't think of anything else.

We were both panting now, our skin glistening in sweat. I took control and started to move against him. Toby clenched his jaw and his body hardened, twitching with restraint. Shudders slithered from his pelvis, over his strong, taut sternum and up his perfect chest. I rolled my hips upward, relishing in the pleasure I was giving him. Moans escaped from his lips breathlessly, so I stroked the back of his neck to help him feel more at ease.

Lust shone in Toby's eyes as he clutched the sheets on either side of my breasts. The muscles along his back rippled as he gave in, bunching into his shoulders. Tremors of pleasure rolled through my own body as I surrendered to this wild abandon.

Toby laced his fingers tenderly through mine, then laid our hands against the pillows. Those same hands that had protected me, loved me, made me feel safe.

He kept his weight propped up so as not to hurt me, bending his knees at my waist. Our chests were rising and falling in easy breaths. Toby pressed his mouth to mine once more, and kissed me long and slow and deep. He was kissing me so deeply it felt as though our lips would never part.

I couldn't get enough of him. I kissed him back just as forcefully, grazing my teeth against his lips, breathing him in.

Toby pulled away for a moment to gaze deeply into my eyes. "I love you so much." His voice was barely above a whisper.

I gazed back up at him, speechless. His eyes were piercing, filled with love and longing.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "I love you, too."

Toby kissed me again, moving his lips against mine lovingly. I parted my lips for him and moaned. He kissed me deeper, his lips soft and tender against my own.

Slowly, he pressed himself against me and moved gently, but deeply inside me. I wrapped my legs around him and howled.

Toby's movements became quick and strong, yet still slow and cautious. Simultaneously, I dug my heels into his back and clung onto him, feeling the muscles strain and turn rigid, twisting as he worked over me.

His elbows dug into the bed and his mouth fell open in ragged grunts. He folded his arms against my shoulder blades to gently push me into him. I yelped and ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back as I matched my movements to his. The sheets were moist, and so all at once, we kicked off the covers, too hot for the heavy blankets against our skin.

Toby's breathing began to grow more labored, and then he was begging and clinging to me because he needed me as much as I needed him. "Spencer…I…"

We were moving sensually and rhythmically together in sync as we made love; he was making me whole again. I moaned and let out more howls of pleasure.

Toby continued to penetrate me deeply, making me gasp for air. A flood of sensations tightened my nerves as he slowly filled me, moving deeper within me. And then in one swift motion, I rolled on top of him, breathing hard. I rocked back and forth across his hips, my palms pressed against his chest. Toby groaned and jerked his hips forward.

I paused over him, running my hands all over his chest. I moaned and gasped with each of my thrusts. A warm, erotic sensation flooded down from my head to my abdomen, then exploded below my navel and sent millions of fiery sparks throughout my whole body. I felt wonderful; my body sang with a heightened ecstasy that I never thought I could feel.

I made it there, and excitement spurted up inside of me beyond my control. I bit my lip and closed my eyes as I moved against him.

I cried out in pleasure. "Yes, oh god yes! Right th…theeeeerrreeeeeeeee!"

I knew Toby was enjoying the pleasure I was giving him, too, because he let out several loud, sexual moans. I began thrusting deeper and faster against him as I let myself give in to it. I wanted more. I wanted to grab Toby and thrust all of him in me so that I could feel every inch of him.

I grabbed the headboard and moaned as I continued to give him hard, steady thrusts. It smacked against the wall and Toby started to grunt. The room was filled with our loud noises.

More pleasure built, surged, and crashed, coating every inch of my skin. I screamed and jerked as I threw myself into it until I reached a climax. Finally, all the strength left my limbs and I collapsed on top of him.

Toby pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me. My body molded so perfectly to his that I never wanted to leave. I sighed softly in content.

As I curled up against him, I absently ran my fingers along the strong contours of his chest, tracing and memorizing all the lines. Toby made a soft murmur of appreciation as I began rubbing small circles onto his skin. He kissed the top of my head before pressing his cheek against it, holding me closer. He felt so warm and right that I couldn't resist and so I buried my face deeper into his chest.

I didn't know how long we lay like that, our bodies meshed together. The pale moonlight streaming in through the window cast an angelic glow across Toby's skin. With Toby holding me in his arms, I felt so peaceful and safe.

I pressed my ear against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. These were the moments that I lived for. I couldn't imagine being without it. He was the center of my world, my life. I wanted to memorize every line and detail of his face so it wouldn't be so painful when I had to close my eyes.

Then my breathing slowed to match his as I drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Toby

That night, Spencer slept in my arms again. She had somehow snuggled closer to me during the night, her body curled against my body. She'd changed into a plain, white V-neck T-shirt that I had given her and was wearing it as a nightgown, and I'd slipped into a pair of my boxer briefs. Immediately afterwards, we'd fallen back into bed, stroking our faces and gazing into each other's eyes until we fell asleep.

I half woke in the middle of the night. I kept waiting to fall back asleep, but I was too wired. Just looking at Spencer made my heart race. How could I sleep when the most beautiful and perfect woman was sleeping next to me?

I watched Spencer sleep, her chest slowly rising and falling with each easy breath against my chest, and I was struck with the realization that I was really holding her in my arms. It filled me with a strong affection, the sort of love that never died. And she smelled so good–like roses and amber–and felt so warm and soft.

I stroked her hair softly, playing with the strands in my fingers. Then I gently touched her face, caressing her cheek, trailing my fingers lightly over her lips. I stared at her face, memorizing every detail. She looked so serene and beautiful that it hurt to be so close to her and not be able to touch more of her. She was so perfect. I loved her so much.

Without being able to help myself, I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Spencer's eyes slowly fluttered open, awakening from her peaceful slumber.

I froze. I hadn't meant to wake her.

But she smiled at me. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," I whispered back. "Did I wake you?"

"No." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I traced my fingers along her jaw while gazing into her chocolate-brown eyes. Spencer sighed happily and closed her eyes. She leaned her cheek into my hand, kissing my inner palm. It made me shudder.

Spencer focused her eyes back onto mine. "Do you mind if I just sleep on my back tonight?"

I felt a pang of disappointment that I wouldn't be holding her for the rest of the night, but I didn't want to force her to do anything that she didn't want to. So I nodded. "Of course. Why do you want to sleep on your back?"

She looked up into my face, her expression a mixture of seriousness and affection. "I want to feel the baby kick, like the doctor said."

The second she said that, I reached over to rub her stomach affectionately. "I'd love that."

I rested my hand there, waiting, hoping that maybe the baby would start kicking. When nothing happened, Spencer rolled over and settled onto her back. I leaned my cheek into her shoulder and snaked an arm around her ribs from underneath the covers, keeping her close to me.

In the dim light cast by the moon, I could see Spencer starting to fall asleep. I buried my face into her shoulder as my eyelids grew heavy, snuggling into her. I had never felt so alive and happier than I did right now.

Spencer

That night as I lay in bed, with Toby's arm draped around me and his face buried into my shoulder, images of the baby replayed in my mind. I kept imagining what she'd look like–would she have Toby's beautiful blue eyes, or would she have my nose? I pictured her small chin next, her lips, ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

My back was pressed flat against the mattress, waiting to feel the baby finally kick. It had been hours since Toby and I had fallen asleep, though I couldn't seem to force my eyes to close. I couldn't stop thinking about our baby growing inside me, worrying throughout the night. It felt like my skin was stretched tight, keeping me wide awake.

It had been five months, and still she hadn't kicked for the first time. I needed to know that she was there, that she could hear me. The anxiety twisted knots into my stomach. But as I finally slipped into subconsciousness, I felt a fluttering tap lightly against my rib cage–like butterfly wings. I touched the small bump on my stomach just to be sure, and felt a stronger, more powerful kick.

I rolled over slightly to where Toby was sleeping next to me and shook him awake urgently. "Toby, wake up! The baby's kicking."

"Mmph," he mumbled. His eyes slowly opened as sleep left his body, registering what I'd just said. "What?! She is? Where?"

"Right here." I took his hand and placed it on the lower center of the bulge on my stomach. "Can you feel it?"

The tapping sensation changed into little gurgles in recognition, like millions of champagne bubbles, and I knew that she knew us.

Toby looked up at me and his eyes lit up, smiling fully. "I felt it!"

I watched his reaction, feeling a smile of my own tug at the corners of my lips. "She's kicking, she's really kicking!" I placed my hand over Toby's on my stomach where I felt the flutter. "Right there."

"Spencer, she's kicking! I felt our daughter!" His eyes began to well up with tears.

I smiled widely and reached out to stroke Toby's cheeks, wiping away the stray tears from his face. "Oh, baby. She's kicking so much."

His eyes glittered with happiness. "Our daughter just kicked for the first time."

I giggled. "Our baby girl."

Toby stroked my belly affectionately. "I love this baby so much. And I love you."

I leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I love you, too."

Toby turned his face as my lips met his cheek and then caught my mouth in his. His lips lingered on mine, soft and gentle. I pressed my mouth against his, refusing to let go, and threw myself into the kiss. I could feel him move his lips against mine fiercely in response as he grabbed my face in his hands.

Toby pulled away and lowered his lips to kiss my tummy. "I love our little girl." He pressed his lips to the spot once more.

I smiled wider when the baby kicked again. "I think she knows it's her daddy."

Toby grinned and pressed his lips to my cheek.

In that instant, I felt another jab against my ribs, harder this time, making me wince. "Ouch!"

Toby frowned. "Are you okay?" he asked in alarm.

"Yeah, the baby is just kicking me really hard," I said.

Toby moved his hand to rub it across my belly gently. "Baby, don't kick mommy's ribs."

The movement settled back into a soft fluttering, as if she was listening to him. Knowing the baby could hear us, I smiled again.

Toby traced my lips with his fingers. "I love it when you smile. It's the most beautiful thing in the world."

I parted my lips underneath his touch, kissing his fingers. "If I'm smiling, it's because of you. You make me so happy."

He used the back of his hand to caress my cheek. "I love you so much." Abruptly, his face turned solemn. "After you came home from the Dollhouse, I kept thinking about how close I came to losing you and how anything can happen. Then it got me thinking about our future together. I want to have babies with you, Spencer. Not just when we get married and have our little girl. I want us to be a family. And I'm going to be here for you the whole way while you're carrying her, and afterwards."

His words caused my heart to throb. "I want that, too. I love you." I grabbed hold of his hand and kissed it.

"You are the love of my life," Toby answered simply. "I can't live without you." He laced his fingers through mine and held it against his chest, at his racing heartbeat.

I felt my own heart quicken. With that, I pressed myself closer to him and closed my eyes. Oh, how I loved the feeling of his body against mine. I inhaled deeply, taking in Toby's wonderful scent and enjoying the feeling of his hand in my own. I never wanted to let him go.

Toby kissed every one of my fingers before lying down on his side to gaze lovingly into my eyes. I stared back, just as transfixed. When I was with Toby, the whole world stopped and nothing else mattered. My whole body felt warm all over just by being so close to him and sent shivers down my spine. The thought of being without Toby caused physical pain to my heart. How could I live without him?

I cuddled against his chest as the baby continued to kick, like a thrumming heartbeat, and nuzzled into his neck. The feeling was comforting to me. "Love you."

Toby slid an arm around my waist and held me close, rubbing my back. "I love you, too. So much." He rested his cheek against my hair and started to slide his fingers in and out through the gaps, playing with my fingers affectionately.

I loved Toby so much that it hurt. So much that it made it hard to breathe, to think.

Then he turned his face to look at me and smiled, kissing me gently on my nose.

My eyelids started to grow heavy with sleep and I rested my head back against his chest. A slight wind whispered in through the small crack of the window, and chills broke out on my arms in goosebumps. I shivered.

I felt Toby's breath against my ear. "Baby, are you cold?"

I couldn't answer, my consciousness slowly fading. Toby silently pulled the blanket over both of us and wrapped his arms around me tightly, rubbing my arms and back to help keep me warm as I allowed the steady pounding of his heartbeat to ease me back into sleep.

Twenty weeks after Toby and I had gotten pregnant, we'd shared our first contact with our daughter–a movement that would forever connect us heart to heart.

Jess

"This way," Alison called over her shoulder, leading me through the thick brush of the massive forest.

I followed quickly behind, ducking to avoid a thorny acacia branch. "You still won't tell me where we're going."

"It's just over this hill," she said.

We pushed deeper into the woods, walking into the darkness, climbing over fallen trees and logs carpeted in more moss along the way. Ali took me along a path I didn't recognize, and we descended upon a long, steep hill. At the bottom, we stopped at a black iron-wrought fence with an ornate entrance gate that separated us from the property inside.

I looked at Ali. "Hold on, we're breaking in?"

"You can't break in if there's no one here," Ali said calmly. "The family who lived here moved away ages ago."

We were standing in front of Lancaster estate, the Philadelphia Main Line's oldest and most prestigious mansion that once belonged to one of the founding families. It was set on acres of untouched land that went for miles and was nestled deep in the woods, and it dated back to the 1800s.

Alison undid the big chain that had been used to keep the gates closed and pushed it open. "Come on, he's down here."

I could smell the honeysuckle that grew in the woods three miles away as I stepped through. We made our way along the trail towards the property. To our left was the mansion's small greenhouse that kept flowers and other plants warm during the winter months. To our right was the Brown's old cottage barn, where the old founding family used to raise chickens. And straight ahead was the large mansion in the middle of a wide clearing, with a low-fenced wall surrounding the area. Aside from its castle-like stone with turrets and towers, you almost couldn't tell there was a home there, tucked behind walls of overgrown hedges, isolated brambles, and huge hanging willow trees. It was painted a light beige against the medieval-style grey stone, stood four stories high wrapped around the entire property, had several well-proportioned bay windows, and was probably a hundred years old.

I followed Ali past several stairs through the heavy wooden door, the floorboards creaking beneath our feet as we walked. Inside, it was bare, open, and very large. Autumn leaves and newspaper fluttered across the hardwood floors. Most of the first floor was one wide space while the back, north-facing wall was created into one of the giant rooms. A massive curving staircase took up most of the west side of the room. It was dark, with no light coming from the windows beyond the shade of the willows. The walls were left bare, unfinished, and there was no carpet or furniture. The only object in the entire house was an old-fashioned crystal chandelier that hung from the high-beamed ceiling.

I looked to my left, and standing at the top of the stairs was Payton King, dressed in casual jeans and a grey knit Calvin Klein sweater underneath a black leather jacket. He was of a medium build, hard-muscled, with cropped brown hair and had sea green eyes on a beautiful face. The scar along the right side of his chin was still visible against the pallor of his creamy skin.

Once you saw Payton, you couldn't take your eyes off him. With his dark hair and enchanting green eyes, he was gorgeous, but he carried his looks differently than other guys. He seemed completely unaware of the effect his good looks had on people, women in particular. Coming from a Scottish family, Payton always seemed different than the other kids in Ohio. He was exotic, bold, and didn't care what anyone else thought of him. He was just Payton.

Payton was three years older than me, highly skilled in combat and archery, fearless, and the fastest runner in our neighborhood. He was the only person who'd taught me how to shoot from a bow and arrow with tennis balls. I worshipped him like he was my big older brother, and he looked out for me like one. We practiced wrestling moves over the weekend mornings, where he'd even shared a few of his secret combat tackling techniques with me, and spent hours after the school we'd both attended since kindergarten in activities (football for him, gymnastics for me). Even when I'd get scared walking alone with him through the fall colors of the woods, Payton never did. The woods never fazed him. He always needed a challenge, something to push up against. And he was the one person I could rely on when I was in trouble, protecting me to no end.

Alison moved around me, as if shielding me from him. "We need your help."

Payton walked down the stairs. "If you're asking me for help, then you must be desperate," he said grimly.

"It's Jonny," Ali said. "He's after Jess."

Payton's eyes tightened with worry. "Has he found you yet?"

The mid-spring breeze blew in from the opened door, and I shivered. Wrapping my arms around myself, I stepped forward. "No, not yet," I finally said. "But it's only a matter of time before he does."

Payton turned to me, as if noticing for the first time that I was here. "Jonny already knows you're here. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?"

"I don't have a choice."

Up close, he was better looking than I remembered. The sharp angles of his face, his dark green eyes that changed to a light jade when he was in a good mood, the facial stubble along his chiseled chin, and those pink full lips pressed together with concern.

"Payton, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important," Alison said. "Please, she's the only family I have left. I can't lose her, too." She looked at him desperately with pleading eyes, willing him to understand.

Payton let out a long sigh. "Look, I can't help you. But the person who lived here can. He always had a plan. He would've left something behind if he ever came back here, something to communicate with his helpers. There might be something we can use to get to Jonny. I just need to look around for a bit to see where he would have hidden such a thing."

I looked at him questionably. "Who lived here?"

"Charles DiLaurentis."

I stared back at him in shock, and when I exchanged a glance with Ali, her face bore the same expression. Her chin wobbled slightly, and she looked as if she was about to cry. We stood in silence as I struggled to wrap my mind around the idea of Alison's long-lost brother.

"Charles lived here?" she finally asked.

Payton nodded. "Yeah, you know him?"

Alison didn't answer for a minute. "He's my brother."

Payton didn't try to hide the disbelief on his face. After a long moment, he beckoned us down the long hall. "Follow me."

Ali and I followed closely behind, walking up the grand staircase. Payton led us past many doors until he came to a stop at the end of the hall that opened up into a great dining room, filled with a long mahogany-wooden table and tall windows that were concealed by heavy, blood-red curtains. Bookshelves were pushed up against the sides of the walls, containing several dusty old books. He walked over to one of them and pulled out a leather-bound book with gold script across the front.

"How is an old book going to help us?" Ali asked skeptically.

Payton didn't answer. In that instant, the two adjoining bookshelves where he had taken the book from moved to reveal another set of stairs descending deep into the house. Below, it was dark and gloomy.

"It's a secret switch," Payton explained. "Charles made it so that no one could ever find any of his things."

Slowly, we walked down the secret passageway, my hand trailing along the cold railing to help me find my footing. Once we reached the bottom of the stairs, Payton switched on the overhead light. It flickered to life, basking its glow over a spacious, high-ceilinged room with dark cherry wood walls. An enormous, antique glass cabinet that reached above my head and held more artifacts and objects that I'd ever seen took up most of the wall space.

A huge, oval-shaped, white marble stone table sat in the center of the room with red velvet chairs. Volumes of thick books piled atop one another, and a silver laptop was shoved to the side. It looked like it hadn't been used in years.

Payton started at the left side of the cabinet, digging through the various Indian artifacts on the shelves. These were not ordinary objects; each one had something special and particular about it. Some stood out with more intricate designs and were bigger than the rest, while others had varying hues of colors and different shapes. But I couldn't help noticing the arrowhead archaic points and other hunting tools lining one of the shelves. It reminded me of Payton's arrows that he used for his bow.

Ali frowned. "This place has been abandoned for years. What exactly are you expecting to find?"

"Anything that can tell us how to contact Jonny," Payton answered. "A would be using something to communicate with him. Secret decoders, GPS signals, laptops, some kind of burner phone."

"What are you suggesting?" I said sarcastically. "That we send Jonny a message?"

"No, we're going to lure him out," he said matter-of-factly.

My chest tightened in panic. "You want to personally seek him out?"

Payton turned his blazing green eyes onto my brown ones. They looked like they were on fire. "It's time we take a page from Charles' book and start being smart. We need to send a message, some kind of signal that will make Jonny think you're alone and vulnerable."

Ali stared at him incredulously. "A trap? That's your plan?"

"If Jonny wants to come after Jess, we need to go after him."

Alison's eyes quickly changed to a steely blue. "By using Jess as bait! Are you insane?"

Payton looked at her sternly, the way a parent told their toddler what to do. "Listen, I know Charles was planning something big. He was looking for someone, a person who was closer to you than anyone."

"Jess," Ali realized. She said the words out slowly, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

My blood turned cold. "Me coming to Rosewood wasn't an accident."

Payton nodded gravely. "A wanted you to come to Rosewood. Jonny was working for him to get his revenge against Alison, who is hands down the most dangerous and repulsive person I've ever met."

Ali and I both gaped at him.

"You know who A is?" she asked Payton, staring at him with wide eyes. "You've seen him?"

"I only met him once, but he was masked," he responded. "All I know is that he wants Jess for some plan of his. And if A wants you, he'll get you." His eyes looked troubled.

"What plan?" I questioned.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" There was no trace of humor in Payton's expression. A sinking feeling dropped down to my stomach.

"A probably knows what we're doing," Alison argued. "How do you know we're not just walking into a trap?"

Payton stepped towards her. "Because I'm not going to let anything happen to Jess. Jonny is the one who's going to get hurt, not her."

"No way. I'm not going to let you use my best friend as bait for some trap."

I turned to Ali. "Ali, it's okay. I want to do this. It's the only way."

She met my eyes briefly for a moment, then turned back to Payton seriously. "If something goes wrong, I want you to get her out of there."

He nodded. "I will."

"What do I have to do?" I asked Payton, my heart pounding faster by the minute.

"First we need to find something to send a message to Jonny," he said. "Then you'll wait for him in a place in the woods where only A knows. Alison and I will take it from there."

Ali moved over to the other side of the cabinet. "Well, then we can't waste any time. Let's start looking."

I quickly joined her, shoving aside the contents along the shelves and feeling around for something hard and metallic as I frantically searched for one of A's devices. I still couldn't quite believe I had the strength to trick A into doing what we wanted. Maybe if we had a weapon like a knife or a bow and arrow, we'd have a chance of fighting against Jonny. I winced, remembering the hunter's knife he had pressed against my throat a year ago.

Suddenly, my hand bumped up against something rectangular and smooth. I lifted my hand out from the chaos of misplaced artifacts that I'd thrown around to find a hard drive disk, fitted for a laptop.

"What's that?" Payton stopped for a moment and dropped his gaze at the hard drive I held.

I stared down at the small drive in my hand, noting how it suddenly felt much heavier than when I'd first picked it up. "I don't know," I stammered. "I just found it."

Alison looked over, her eyes immediately lighting up with recognition.

Payton took the hard drive from me and turned it over, examining it. After a moment, he looked up at Ali and I. "I know how we're going to send Jonny that message."

"How?" I asked.

"By using this," he answered. "We'll load the data from this hard drive onto the laptop to talk to other A Team members. We just need one to read our signal. Once they do, we can smoke out the perpetrator to where we want him."

Payton wordlessly walked over to the laptop sitting on the huge table and turned it over. Normally, I wouldn't have thought anything else of it, but A was dangerous and paranoid by nature; he sure went to a lot of trouble just to keep one hard drive hidden.

Slowly, Payton unscrewed the back of the computer with a bent paper clip and reassembled the drive, sliding it into place.

"How do you know it'll work?" Alison challenged.

"Because I know a thing or two about tracking people." Something I couldn't recognize flickered in Payton's dark green eyes.

Ali stubbornly pressed her lips together in a tight line.

"A doesn't tolerate people who cross him," I pointed out. "If we get caught–"

"We won't get caught," Payton snapped. "Alison and I will wait for one of Charles' minions to reach out. In the meantime, I want you to lay low. And take this." He pulled out a small bottle of pepper spray from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pressed it into my palm.

I looked at him in irritation. "I can take care of myself."

Payton narrowed his eyes. "Humor me."

Sighing, I curled my fingers over the pepper spray, clutching it tightly in my hand.

"I'll take you back," Ali offered.

I shook my head. "Ali, you need to stay here and help Payton figure out how to get that message to Jonny."

"I don't know," she said uncertainly.

I reached for Ali's hand and squeezed. "I'll be okay," I assured her. "Just come find me when Jonny gets that message."

Ali bit her lip nervously. "Be careful."

"Always am." I gave her a brave smile, despite the twisting of my stomach. But I was a rattle of nerves on the inside.

The sky was cloaked in a purplish black when I finally stepped out of the cabin. There were no clouds or moon tonight, only stars filled up the atmosphere.

I was crouched behind the cover of some rose bushes, the thorns stabbing my skin. The only thing concealing my identity were the dark jeans and black hoodie I was wearing. It had been fifteen minutes since the Miller's family car left the garage. They'd gone out for dinner and would be gone for at least an hour. That gave me enough time to sneak in and out without anyone noticing. The lights were off and the doors were locked tight, but I knew the window on the far left side of the house had a weak spot and could be easily persuaded.

I'd been watching the house for an hour, and I didn't hear any sounds of a dog. There were no other houses that were vacant, so this was my only shot.

My stomach growled, and I had to suck in my abdominal muscles to quiet the sound.

I was so hungry. I hadn't had anything to eat but a protein bar this morning. I needed food for the cabin that was my temporary home, hidden safely away by the trees of the forest. The refrigerator was bare and empty from when I'd crashed in last night.

I pulled my hoodie up around my head and kept it close around my face, careful not to let anyone see me. Noiselessly, I eased up from my spot behind the bushes and slowly moved towards the house. My calves screamed in protest, but I stayed hunched at the waist, trying to be smaller than the bushes. The yard was covered in grass, and there were no signs of any cars nearby.

I crawled over to the side window by the patio easily. Then I dug through my satchel bag that was slung over my shoulder and pulled out the crowbar I'd pilfered from the garbage dump in Ohio a few weeks ago prior to arriving in Rosewood. The curtains were opened inside the house. There was enough moonlight to see that the rooms were empty.

I slid the hard metal of the crowbar's precise chiseled end through the crevice of the window and eased it up silently. I threw my leg over the windowsill, and then the other one, and climbed through. I carefully placed my feet on the carpet of a huge living room. The room was filled with top designer furniture, making it easier for someone like me to hide, and I was grateful for it. I had to be quick.

To my left was the kitchen. The streetlights from the sidewalks outside gleamed against the granite-topped island counters. I set down my bag and started for the refrigerator first. My stomach turned anxiously when the door light came on as I opened it, but I held the button down with my foot. I didn't have time to allow my eyes adjust to the dark light. I had to go by feeling.

I felt the shape of a wedge of cheese wrapped in plastic and grabbed it. I found a carton of milk and took that, too. Next, I gathered some juice boxes and a bag of apples. A roasted chicken, leftover rice in a plastic container, bread.

Then I hurried to the pantry. I needed food that would last longer. I didn't have enough money to pay for any, so this was my only option. The smell of snicker doodle cookies filled my nose. I imagined the sugary cinnamon melting on my tongue and my empty stomach twisted with hunger. I wanted to rip into the bag right now and gorge on them, but instead, I gritted my teeth and ignored the painful rumbling.

I carried as much as I could into the bag, but it was quickly getting heavy. And it would still only last me a week, even if I was careful. I shoved a few granola bars into my sweater pockets and zipped up my bag.

I still had one last thing I had to do before I left. Heading towards the sink, I refilled my Nalgene bottle with water.

My chest tightened in panic. I had to get out of here. I'd been here longer than I'd intended. I started for the door, hoping it wasn't locked or at least not difficult to unlatch. But before I could reach for the handle, a big, strong hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I guessed from the strength of their hand that it must have been a man.

A stupid squeak of fear escaped my mouth as I spun around, causing my hood to slide off from over my head. His hand tightened around my wrist. It was too dark to see him.

The guy brought a flashlight up to my face, blinding me. I gasped and automatically turned away from it. He eased his steel, iron grip on me and the flashlight's beam fell against the floor.

I used the opportunity to punch him in the gut, but he didn't even flinch. His abdomen was rock hard. My hand stung as I instantly drew back.

The guy quickly encircled my wrists back into his fierce grip and pulled me in close. "That's the Jess I know," he whispered.

My heart raced in panic. _How does he know my name?_

"Nice hook." I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Thanks for noticing," I said bravely. I tried to twist away from him, but his lock on my wrists remained firm.

I didn't dare meet his eyes. Who was this perpetrator? He was so close I could smell his scent, of spices and minty soap. Desperate, I jerked my knee up sharply.

The guy let out a grunt and dropped my wrists, and I broke free. I ducked under his arm and sprinted for the door. I could outrun him, even with the heavy bag. I always ran faster than the other girls at my school, back before I was on the run.

"Wait!" The guy grabbed my shoulders roughly, yanking me back against his chest. My hand involuntarily loosened, and the bag hit the floor with a thud.

"Get your hands off me!" I yelled.

I could feel the heat of his body, and I hated the way it made my skin warm. My reaction to him was infuriating. I tried to wrench myself away, but his hold on me was too strong to yank free. I clawed and squirmed, but it was no use. The guy turned me around suddenly and let go of my shoulders.

"Jess, it's me!" I heard a click, and a beam of light shot out from the end of the bulky flashlight. He turned the flashlight on his face.

And then it finally registered. I knew what was happening; this person knew who I was because of Jonny's name on the wanted list, and he was planning to turn me into the police as the only witness in the case. It would get me killed for sure.

"You're going to turn me in!" Suspicion was thick in my voice. I couldn't let myself believe that this was nothing more than just a trick.

"No, I'm not," the guy insisted. "Just look!"

Hesitantly, I raised my eyes and gasped. I was shocked to see a familiar, heart-shaped face staring back at me. The light illuminated his tousled blonde hair, full pink lips, and piercing blue eyes. I recognized Jason's long fingers and those bow-shaped lips. How could I not have known it was him before?

"Jason," I breathed. I'd been thinking about him a lot lately–especially the long childhood crush I used to have on him. Except, I didn't think I ever stopped.

Jason met my eyes directly and smiled. "Hey, Jessie."

My old nickname made butterflies rocket in my stomach, stealing my breath. I was so happy to see him that I could kiss him. The thought made my cheeks redden.

Instinctively, I reached for him. My fingers touched the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks, tracing them over his soft lips. Jason didn't move as I brushed my fingers through his hair, keeping his eyes on mine.

After a moment, he smiled wide. "You're not going to kick me again, are you?"

I laughed lightly. "No."

Jason reached his hand out toward me slowly. "C'mon, let's get you some real food."

"Why?" I asked guardedly. I gripped my bag tightly to my chest, hesitating.

"You can't stay here. I'll find you even if you don't want to be found."

It wasn't until I curled my hand around his that I realized I wanted to go with him.

Jason held my hand as he led me across the street to his gigantic house. It felt warm and soft, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that nothing bad was going to happen to me tonight.

Halfway down the block, the neighborhood was dark and quiet. We walked across the dewy grass, maneuvering around the tall rose bushes, and pushed through the back door into the house's foyer. I wondered if Alison and her father were home yet, but all of the lights inside were switched off.

Jason didn't release my hand even when we walked through the darkness of the house. To our left was Mr. DiLaurentis' bedroom door, which had been cracked ajar. There wasn't any evidence of Jessica around since she and Alison's dad had divorced. I remembered coming over as a kid, when Ali and I would sneak into Jason's room and hide when we thought we heard him coming. The chance of getting caught had seemed so fun and thrilling at the time. We were six-years-old, and we ruled the world with princess castles and dragons. But that had been a different time and I was no longer that same girl anymore.

As Jason and I moved down the hall, I noticed the old DiLaurentis family photographs that still lined the walls. I saw one at the end, of me and Jason at eight and fourteen years old, sitting in the sand at Baltimore beach. Jason had a small sand shovel in his hand, and I was piling a bucket of sand onto one of our famous sand castles. At fourteen, Jason was tall and gawky, while I had stringy bangs and a gaping front tooth.

He was still holding my hand. Jason started to turn towards the spacious kitchen, then paused. He leaned in close, and for a crazy second, I thought he was going to kiss me. I held my breath. But then Jason slowly let go of my hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You want me to make you something?" he whispered.

I shrugged. "I guess." I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly freezing.

Jason took my hands in his. "Hey, I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to you, I promise."

I felt a swell of gratitude. He was so sweet.

"Maybe some fettuccini?" Jason offered. "You have to eat something."

I nodded. "Thanks."

I slowly sat down at the cherry-wood dining table while Jason worked in the kitchen. He pulled out a bag of uncooked noodles and poured it into a steaming pot on the stove to heat, and set another pot next to it for the cream sauce. While the pasta and sauce were cooking, I helped Jason put out plates, silverware, and place mats on the table. But when I crossed to the living room to clean up any leftover dishes, something sparkling caught my eye. I turned, and sitting on the coffee table was a small glass of Scotch. A couple of ice cubes swirled around in the glass.

I sucked in a breath. I'd been exposed to alcohol long enough to know when someone had been drinking. I glanced back at the kitchen, where Jason was spooning the fettuccine alfredo into a couple bowls. But Jason's eyes weren't red or unfocused; it didn't seem like he'd been drinking. The glass was still full and the cubes had almost melted, untouched. I didn't know what caused him to take out the bottle of Scotch from his secret cabinet, but whatever the reason, something must have made him change his mind.

Jason brightened when I returned. "Hey, dinner's ready." Two bowls of fettuccine alfredo sat next to each other on the table.

I sniffed the air in front of him, testing to see if he was drunk. But I couldn't smell alcohol on his breath.

I breathed a soft sigh of relief and sat down. "The fettuccine smells so good."

Jason poured each of us a glass of water from a pitcher in the middle of the table. "It was nothing." He ducked his head, seeming uncharacteristically bashful.

I picked up my fork and took a hearty bite of the fettuccine. The pasta was good. I swallowed and took another few forkfuls, chewing as if I hadn't eaten in days.

I took a greedy sip of my water before I looked up. "I have to ask you something," I confessed.

"Okay," he said gently, but his eyes were wary.

"Were you drinking tonight? Before you caught me, I mean. I only ask because I saw the Scotch in the living room."

Jason looked down in shame, running a hand through his hair. When he met my eyes again, his expression was torn. "I was, but then I saw you breaking into the house across the street and I couldn't just leave you there."

I furrowed my brow. "Why? What made you change your mind?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I guess I was just remembering when we were kids, how you were always in trouble."

The corners of my lips turned up slightly. "You were always saving me."

"Somebody's got to." Jason's blue eyes were steady on me.

My stomach flipped nervously. "What made you come back to Rosewood?" I blurted, grappling for something to say. Whenever I was around Jason, I couldn't speak. And when I did, it came out all stuttery and weird.

Jason sipped at his water. "I stayed for Ali to help with the trial…" He sighed. "There's all this stuff going on. I know my sister must have told you about Charles."

"Yeah, she did." My stomach twisted just thinking about all the drama from Ali's trial. Mona setting Ali up for her murder, along with the help of one of her closest friends, Leslie Stone, to stand up in front of the jury with her false testimony about Alison killing her long-rivaled enemy.

"But weren't you at Yale?" I asked. I recalled the day Ali told me Jason had gotten into Yale, his top-choice school.

Jason nodded. "Yeah. I graduated two years ago." He leaned toward me. "So…what were you doing breaking into the Miller's house in the middle of the night?"

I opened my mouth, fumbling for an answer. Jason was so close to me, I could smell his intoxicating, spicy scent. As usual, I was too tongue-tied to form the words to speak around him. I knew if I did, I would be compelled into telling him the truth, as usual. For some odd reason, I could never seem to lie to Jason.

So I pretended to be oblivious. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you always bring pepper spray when you're wandering in the streets alone?" Jason pointed to the small bottle of pepper spray peeking out from my sweater pocket that Payton had given to me earlier. I'd forgotten about it until now.

I felt my cheeks grow hot. "No, I…"

"I can keep a secret," Jason teased. He scooted his chair closer to mine, making my insides shimmer. "Isn't Yale your dream school, too?"

I shrugged. "So what if it is?"

Jason gave me a crooked smile. "When you were twelve, you used to talk about going there someday and how you would spend a year studying art in Paris."

I twirled some more noodles around my fork and popped it into my mouth, remembering. It was true. Getting into Yale had been my life plan since I was six years old. I wanted to travel around the world, painting and sketching, particularly in Paris, my favorite city. Mostly everyone at Fairfield High School picked state schools or local private colleges, but I fantasized going to Yale and studying art there. Before everything with Jonny happened, I'd applied early in September and committed myself to taking five AP classes, was photo editor of the yearbook committee, along with participating in journalism, art, varsity soccer, and French club while still maintaining a high GPA of a four-point-oh. I needed to create the ideal transcript if I wanted to impress the admissions office for a scholarship. It was the only way I could get into Yale. But it was a hard school to get into, and I hadn't exactly been the perfect academic student lately. It was a lost cause.

"It's a great school," Jason went on. "And you're already one of the smartest girls I know. I'm sure you'll get in."

I felt myself blushing, and turned away to stare down at my empty plate, which I'd scarfed down. "Yeah, well, that was a long time ago."

"But you want to go, don't you?" Jason pressed.

I stared at him through narrowed eyes. "Why do you care so much?"

"Why won't you answer?" he retorted.

I jutted my chin out defiantly, then looked at him stormily, angry at myself for letting him get to me. Jason's eyes gleamed, looking amused. If he weren't so damn cute, I probably would have stormed off by now. But what was even more infuriating than being the only person who could see past my mask of protection was that he was so oblivious to how hot he was.

Then he reached forward across the table to touch the back of my hand, gently stroking my skin with his fingers. "You can trust me," he murmured.

I shyly looked up at him, trying to decide if I could completely open myself up to him. And the truth was, I yearned to tell someone about Jonny. Other than Alison, I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. "I don't know if I have a choice anymore," I said quietly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. "You shouldn't be anywhere near me. I'm a magnet for trouble. Every time I try to make things right, danger always finds me." The words burned my chest in agony even as I uttered them. Part of me hoped he would listen to my warning, but another larger part ached for him to stay. The dilemma tore at my insides.

Jason's eyes locked with mine. "I'm not leaving you." His eyes were suddenly very tender.

My heart skipped several beats. Looking at him now, I realized I hadn't noticed what he was wearing tonight–a navy blue, short-sleeved shirt that fit snugly against his chest. I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious.

"I came here to get away from someone," I admitted.

Jason's brow furrowed in concern. "Who?"

I took a shaky breath. "When I was in Colorado for rehab, there was this guy I was dating, Jonny," I started. "Not a good guy. And all of my friends begged me to leave him. He made me believe I was special and that I could trust him." I shook my head, blinking back tears. "And I believed him. And then when I found out he was just using me to get to Ali, he went off on me and…and CeCe found me and took me to the hospital. But he's still looking for me. And because he wants to hurt Ali, he wants to hurt me, too."

Jason squeezed my hand comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. That explains why you came here, but I'm not sorry you did."

I smiled at him, comforted. "Me, too." It felt good to talk to someone–and it took my mind off A and Jonny.

"I missed talking to you," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "My dad won't even bring up Charlie. I think he wishes that he didn't exist. For the longest time, I thought I'd made Charlie up, but then to find out that I didn't…" Jason pressed his lips together tightly. "My father made me doubt myself."

I slid my hand down to his arm, feeling the tendons there. "I'm so sorry, Jason." He had a tormented expression on his face, and my chest ached with sympathy. I clenched my teeth, furious that Jason's dad would make him feel this way.

Suddenly, Jason stared into my eyes. "Well, right now I just want to be happy." He breathed in nervously, like maybe he was about to say something else. "And I'd like to do that here."

My stomach fluttered with butterflies. But then Jason cleared his throat. "Can I drive you back to your cabin?"

"Actually, could I stay with you tonight? I just really don't want to be alone right now." My heart thudded fast at the thought of spending the night with him.

"Yeah," he whispered. He held my gaze for a few long beats.

I felt buzzy, and I was struck with the oddest sensation that something was going to happen.

After a long moment of silence passed, Jason pulled me up to my feet. "C'mon, you can sleep in the guest room."

Before I could protest, he led me upstairs to a huge bedroom with a gorgeous high-beamed ceiling and a bay window that looked out on the Hastings' large house, which had its very own barn-renovated guesthouse. Jason quickly pulled the curtains closed to conceal the window away from prying eyes and disappeared down the second-story hall.

He came back a few seconds later with a long-sleeved white Henley shirt that I assumed must have been his. I hesitated at the foot of the bed, hyper aware that Jason was right here in front of me. The house was so quiet, I could hear my own heart thumping against my chest.

Jason handed me his cotton shirt. "Here, I thought you might need something to wear to bed."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Sleep tight," he whispered.

"Night," I breathed.

When Jason shut the door behind him, I pulled my shirt over my head and then reached up my back to unclasp my pale pink bra, which I casually let fall to the floor. I stripped out of my jeans next and slipped into Jason's shirt. I tried not to think about the fact that Jason had slept in it almost-naked as I put my arms though the holes, breathing in his overwhelming scent. It was big on me, falling past my butt.

Wearing only Jason's shirt and my undies, I switched off the bedroom's overhead light and crawled underneath the covers, trying not to think of anything. It felt like months since I'd had a proper night's sleep. I drifted off only to be woken by nightmares of Jonny and my father that plagued my mind, increasing in intensity. I withstood the darkness for as long as I could, guarding against dangers that could collapse at any given moment. Jason heard me screaming as I struggled to break through the horrible dreams. He shook me awake and managed to calm me down. Then he climbed into bed with me and held me for a while until I fell back asleep.

I listened to Jason's soft breathing, my head resting against his chest. With my pulse pounding in my ears, I suddenly felt wide awake. How could I possibly fall asleep with him holding me?

I let out a deep sigh, feeling as though I was letting out all of my anxieties. The terror of being found by Jonny or the police, my scarred body, my lack of sleep, and the worry over what would happen next. I turned to look at Jason, but his eyes were closed. I watched him sleep until my eyelids grew heavy. And that's how we slept for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other's arms. For the first time in months, I felt safe and sound.


	10. Chapter 10

10\. Discovered

Jess

When I woke up in the guest room the next morning, the early sunlight was streaming in through the bedroom window, illuminating my body and Jason's. His arm was draped around me as I dozed peacefully.

I tried to ignore Jason's soft skin brushing up against my own. Then I felt his arm grazing mine. His hand trailed down to my wrist, then curled into my palm, holding my hand. I turned, being careful not to disturb him, but it was too late. He was already awake.

When I opened my eyes, I felt a light smile whisper across my lips. Jason smiled back at me, and the look of longing was evident in his eyes.

But could I enjoy the moment? Nope.

My new cell phone vibrated on the bedside table next to me. I reluctantly rolled over and reached for it. A new text message glowed on the screen. It was from Payton.

It's done. Jonny took the bait. Meet me and Ali in the woods at seven.

My shoulders bunched up in tension. One part of me was relieved to finally get this over with, but another part was terrified. I glanced over at the digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. It was 8:30 A.M. I had eleven hours until I had to meet Payton and Ali, and I couldn't spend it here to let Mr. DiLaurentis find me in bed with his son.

I quickly pulled back the covers and set my feet onto the floor as I caught the painful sunlight streaming in though the window. Then I changed back into my clothes and grabbed my satchel bag.

"Jess?" Jason mumbled. He sat up in bed, his gorgeous golden hair tousled from sleep. His eyes had turned to a light, sparkling blue, and his skin was glowing. It was almost irritating how good he looked in the morning.

Before I could answer, my old phone started buzzing at the bottom of my bag. I rooted around for it and dug out the small, black prepaid burner flip phone. It looked old and cheap compared to the iPhone Ali had given to me before I'd left her house yesterday.

Josh had left me five messages, each one more urgent than the next:

Jess, where are you? Text me back as soon as you get this.

The next message was sent just a couple days after the first.

Jess, I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from you in days.

I scrolled through the rest of the messages from Josh, noting the panic in each one. He knew what happened the last time I'd left Ohio.

I shut my eyes and snapped the phone shut, a huge lump forming in my throat. I itched to write Josh back, but I knew doing so would make him come looking for me. He had texted and called a few more times during the past week, but I hadn't responded in fear of revealing what was really happening. As far as Josh knew, I was on a bus heading towards the west coast or squatting in a neglected tree stump somewhere in the woods, which is where I had gone the last time that I had run away from home. I'd made my tree stump home out of sticks and logs and firewood, and it didn't offer much warmth, but it provided shelter and a place to hide my food from the woodland creatures of the forest and kept me safe from my father.

Absently, I traced my finger over the locket that hung around my neck and turned to Jason. "Um, I should get going." I slung the bag over my shoulder and started for the door.

But then Jason climbed out of bed, wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs below his hips. "I could drive you."

"Jason…" I protested. He looked like he was thinking about staying with me, confusing our already complex relationship.

"Or not. But are you going to be alright alone?" When Jason gazed into my eyes, my insides turned to jelly. I felt like he could see right through me, right down to my soul. He would know if I was lying.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'll just lock all the doors and windows, and take a hot bath. Try and relax."

"Okay." Jason looked away, trying not to seem phased by my rejection, but I could see the disappointment on his face. Remorse crippled me. I couldn't stand hurting him.

"I'm just trying to stay sane," I tried to explain. "With everything going on, I just don't want to lose myself." My eyes flickered up to his for a moment, my cheeks flooding with heat. "Not that I don't want to."

Jason caught my gaze and slowly raised a hand to my face, stroking my cheek softly. My skin warmed at the touch of his skin against mine. Then he leaned in to kiss me on the other cheek, letting his hand linger there.

My lips parted slightly as I released a quiet breath, a nervous sensation fluttering through me. I tried not to be too aware of the fact that he was naked to the waist except for his Calvin Klein boxers, which clung to him tightly. If Ali knew I was thinking about her brother that way, she would probably kill me.

Jason locked his eyes onto mine. They were growing bluer by the second. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"I know, but I have to." I reluctantly stepped away from him, pain swallowing me as I did so.

Jason looked at me for a few long seconds before walking out the door. Flickers of sorrow hid behind his eyes. I closed my eyes and sighed in despair. I wanted him so badly my whole body throbbed.

I slid down against the wall and brought my knees up to my chest, staying there until my dark mood finally subsided. Some of it, anyway. I couldn't explain why I was feeling this way about a guy who was off limits, or why he made my heart race every time I saw him. All I knew was that I couldn't stand being away from Jason, even for a minute. If I lived in a world where I could have both Jason and Ali, then my life would be perfect.

I dragged myself downstairs, stopping in the archway of the living room when I noticed Ali sitting quietly on the couch. The curtains were closed, leaving no light in the room except for the sun glinting against a small portion of the glass windows. Her face was pinched with anger and her eyebrows knitted together, looking like she was deep in thought about something.

I frowned. "Ali, are you okay?"

Alison startled, as if she hadn't expected to see me standing there. "Jess. I didn't know you were here."

I looked her over. Ali wore dark sweatpants and a faded grey _23_ long-sleeved shirt. It was unlike her to look so un-put together. But even when Ali dressed sloppy, she still managed to look gorgeous. It made me wonder if it had something to do with Charles.

"Um, yeah, I–" I stuttered, walking into the room.

Just then, a chatter of voices floated in the room from outside.

"I mean, how many people has she put behind bars?" said a guy's smooth, deep voice. "I think they should chain her to the bed."

I realized where the voice was coming from and I fumed. _How. Dare. He._ As if Ali hadn't been through enough, now people had to judge her in front of her _house?_ It was infuriating.

Ali walked over to the big bay window and pulled back the heavy floral curtain, peering into the front yard. Two cops stood around some police cruisers parked behind Kenneth's parked silver Mercedes in the DiLaurentis' private drive, guarding the house for safety from Charles. Sunlight bathed Ali's face against her short, blonde hair, making her look even more angelic.

Alison grimaced. My blood boiled, filling my body with anger. Damn them. Police officers were trained to serve and protect. Meanwhile, two of Rosewood's finest were bad-mouthing Ali in her own home. And I wasn't about to let them get away with it.

"They can't do that!" I set my jaw and stormed up to the door, ready to tell them exactlywhat I thought of their rudeness.

Ali grabbed my arm, stopping me. "Forget it, Jess. This is how it is here. People either think you walk on water, or you're crazy. I might as well get used to it."

I looked at her. "Since when do you let people talk about you like that? Ali, that's not you."

"A lot of things aren't like me lately." She had a defeated expression on her face, and her eyes looked red and tired. "And besides, it's not like I have a choice."

"You can't let those people bully you," I pushed. "You need to fight back."

"Right, because fighting back worked so well for you."

I raised my chin slightly and looked away, trying to hide the hurt in my eyes. "Well, not everyone needs a cop to help get what they want."

The instant the words left my mouth, I regretted saying them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

Ali shook her head. "It's okay. You're not the first one to think it."

After a few long seconds passed, I asked, "Did you talk to Payton?"

She pursed her lips together. "Yeah, Jonny fell for the bait. But you have to stay out of sight until then. If he knows you're here–"

"I know, I know. I was just heading back to the cabin."

Alison's eyes turned soft. "I'm sorry, Jess."

I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "For what?"

"For everything."

"This isn't your fault." I paused, a dark cloud suddenly forming in my mind. "But we haven't talked about the most important thing yet. Spencer."

Ali frowned. "What about her?"

"Jonny came to Rosewood looking for me. I don't think it was an accident that he happened to be staying in the Hastings barn."

Realization slowly ebbed onto Ali's face. "You think Jonny was using Spencer to get to you?"

"No, Ali," I said. "I don't think it. I know it."

Spencer

I walked down one of the hallways of an abandoned building, confusion clouding my mind of where I was. My head felt thick and fuzzy, like someone had stuffed a bunch of cottonballs inside. Glistening shadows from the endless hole of darkness swallowed me as I took a few steps around the corner. The hall was dark and cold, cobbled with red brick and faded grey cement molding. It had the feel of an alleyway or a dungeon. There were cobwebs everywhere, and it was too dark to see the exit.

As I continued down the dark path, it suddenly widened. It clearly wasn't meant for people like me to wander around endlessly. Somewhere close by, I heard water dripping from the leaky pipes that were built into the walls, twisting and turning at every corner, and something that sounded like birds flapping their wings. A loud creaking noise echoing throughout the building chilled my bones. I walked slowly down the hallway, scanning through the darkness for the source of the sound. But all I could see were the cement floors and draining pipes.

A loud pounding reverberated in the halls. Frightened, I spun around and my head snapped back. Melting out of the shadows was a young girl who looked to be about eleven or twelve, wearing a long white gown, and had long, dark wild hair. A sense of familiarity prickled my skin, and I was struck with the oddest feeling that I'd seen her somewhere before.

The girl stepped forward and fell to her knees at the end of the hall. My heart jumped in my throat, seizing me in place.

"Hello?" I said in a small voice.

Slowly, she stood up, but she didn't answer. Above her, I could see a bright light coming in through the blackness from a big hole in the wall. It looked like a tunnel.

"Hello?" I repeated, hating how scared I felt.

Finally, she looked up at me from a sideways angle, looking more feral than anything. I couldn't breathe.

A squeaking sound pierced my ears as the girl slowly turned her head to stare at me. Her ghostly-pale skin illuminated against the faint glow of the light, and her plump pink lips were gaped open. I noticed the color of her eyes for the first time–a golden brown amidst a shade of leafy green, like hazel. And she had dark, brownish, bruise-like shadows under those eyes, as if she was suffering from lack of sleep. Then suddenly, the girl hurtled herself down the hallway in a long, quick spurt. I didn't hesitate to chase after her, my feet slapping against the cement floor beneath me.

"Wait, wait!" I called out desperately. "Who are you?"

I came to an opened door at the end of the hall and stopped. There was a small window in the thick, steel door to secure the room from unwanted visitors. It opened up into a cold and dark room, a gloomy, large space big enough for a sanitarium bathroom that was both disturbing and creepy, which it probably was. A sense of déjà vu came over me, but something in my brain was blocking me from the memory of this place.

The walls were tiled a teal green, and there were a couple of drains on the ghoulish stone floor. Sunlight poured faintly in through the small, rectangular windows onto the stone floor below. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, but the bulbs were burned out. The only furniture in the room were several broken, rusted clawfoot bathtubs that were covered with white dusty sheets, and iron-thick drain pipes winded along the walls and pillars of the room.

But I wasn't alone.

On the far side of the room, the girl in the white gown was running in between two of the bathtubs a few feet away from me, seemingly unaware of my presence. She stopped abruptly when she saw me and jerked her body forward, whipping her head back like she was being possessed. She bent apart her knees and dropped to the ground in a dance-like movement. I watched in bewilderment as the young girl placed both her hands against another one of the tubs to raise her leg straight up in the air in a cartwheel. She was so frail and thin, I could see the contours of her spine.

The girl placed her foot back onto the ground and spun around, pressing her back flat against the bath tub. She sat on the edge and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, groaning violently as if she was going to throw up. In one fluid motion, she rose up and arched her neck far back. Then, the girl bounded for the two tubs, sliding in between them on her feet with easy grace. Her hands clung to the sides of the two tubs as she threw her body upwards from her tippy toes, her face raised to the ceiling.

She flung her arm over in that same moment to crawl slowly onto the covered bath tub. The girl twisted her leg towards her torso at an awkward angle, looking up at me blankly. In that instant, she raised her arms up behind her like a bat. As I watched, another memory ripped through my mind, sucking me in.

It was of me in the Dollhouse–my hands were curled as I lay passed out on the carpet, covered in thick, red blood. Another image quickly flooded my head, my hands desperately yanking my shirt up to see where the blood was coming from. A cold realization seeped into my bones as I realized I'd been here before, when A had trapped me inside the Dollhouse.

I started breathing faster. I didn't want to be here.

I blinked, and I was standing inside the sanitarium bathroom again. I saw the girl on the other side of the bath tub, peering up at me through her dark, tangled hair. The sight sent chills down my spine. Before I could react, she twirled in big circles around the two tubs and lifted herself up from the ridges again, kicking her legs high up over her head.

When she was finished, the girl pushed herself forward onto the floor on all fours like an animal. She crawled swiftly to the far side of the wall, and I heard a loud rumbling fill the room. The girl was pounding her fists against the wall.

I stepped backwards, hit with several emotions all at once. More images of the Dollhouse flickered through my mind like snapshots, fast and uncontrollable. _I dragged myself across the floor, following the thick trail of blood leading me there. Then my hands flew against the door. Even as I banged against the hard wood, I could feel the strength slowly slipping away from my limbs._

I shuddered at the memory and the sick dread I still felt whenever I thought of about how close I came to losing Toby. My stomach churned as the girl stared at me now. It seemed like she was trying to help me remember something.

She pressed the side of her face against the wall now. Her leg jerked straight out and then flattened her back against the wall, spreading her legs far apart. The girl stared up at the ceiling and clamped a hand to her mouth, using her other hand to slowly drag it over her forehead, her fingers spread out across her face like claws.

Then she lurched forward, spinning around to the corner of the room. She grabbed onto a thick pipe from the wall and slid across the floor. Finally, the girl lifted her leg high in the air in a ballerina's stance.

My stomach flipped. It felt like the room was closing in around me, making it difficult to breathe. Blood pulsed in my ears, deafening any other sounds. The memory I'd been trying to suppress blurred back into focus. _I crawled blindly across the floor to see where the trail of blood led to and stopped. My heart sunk to my feet as I realized the blood had seeped far beyond the door. Was someone hurt?_

A minute later, the girl was peering at me from behind one of the pillars, features contorted beatifically on her face. I looked to where she was holding herself upright and noticed her hand resting on the tube pipe that was built into the grey column. A second later, she melted out of her tense position and twirled away from the column in her quick, graceful dancer's step.

She glided towards me, faster than I could keep up with. My hand flew to my pregnant stomach and I gasped, jumping away from her. Abruptly, the girl ran backwards and jumped onto the ridge of the bath tub covered with the cloth blanket. Slowly, she raised her arms and glanced back at me, her eyes wide and feral. To my horror, she placed one foot in front of her, preparing to walk across.

 _No!_

I covered my hands over my mouth in alarm and gasped. But instead of falling over into the tub, the girl walked gracefully across the sheet in an effortless lope that belonged on a theatre stage rather than inside a sanitarium. I watched, amazed at her flawless balance.

As soon as her back hit the sheet, she started to mimic wild gestures of possession. The room soon filled with her loud and violent screams. Her body writhed and shook convulsively, flinching from some hideous, deep-filled dark force brewing inside her. The girl threw her abdomen up towards the ceiling, curving her back demonically as both her feet and hands moved onto all fours. She rolled over onto her stomach fluidly and touched her feet to the ground, her eyes dark and evil.

I stood rooted the floor with a mixture of confusion and terror, frozen in place. I couldn't move. Part of me longed to help her, but I didn't know how.

The girl moved to sit down on a wooden chair in the west corner of the room and quickly pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. I swallowed deeply. When I looked at her again, her eyes that were once filled with a malevolent triumph changed to a fearful helplessness. My heart went out to her, pitying the poor girl. Then, just like a ghost, she disappeared before my eyes.

I stared at the empty chair in confusion. _Where did she go? And what was she trying to tell me?_

I scanned the room, bewildered, when something caught my eye. Sitting on the floor below a bathroom cabinet was a pair of faded yellow shower slippers. I paused. I was positive those hadn't been there before.

I kneeled down to pick up one of the slippers and turned it over to examine it. There was purple ink smudged on the side of the slipper, but I could still make out the words _C. DiLaurentis_.

A feeling of dread washed over me, icing my whole body. Suddenly, the sound of a man's footsteps echoed down the hall from behind me. I whipped my head around and saw a big, dark shadow looming in the doorway. Even with his face shrouded in darkness, there was something about him I recognized, like I'd seen him somewhere before.

"Charles?" I whispered.

The man behind the black hoodie grinned, cackling joyously. I wanted to scream, but it was frozen in my throat, as if something was sucking all the air from my lungs. Suddenly, the shadow grew bigger, looming over me, and he reached for me…

I woke up shaking on the floor of my bedroom with no idea how I'd fallen off, blinking against the bright light floating into the room. The dream had felt so real, almost like I'd been there before. For a minute, I didn't recognize the room. All of the bookshelves were devoid of any books or photo frames, my desk bare and empty, and my bedside tables were swiped clean. The only clothes in my closet were a few shirts and jeans that draped over the shelves. It looked like no one was living here. Toby and I had been so busy moving my things out of my room and into his apartment above The Brew that I hadn't realized how empty it looked now. The last of my boxes of stuff was at Toby's, waiting to be unpacked. And tonight I would be moving into the loft.

I sighed blissfully. My weekend with Toby at the cabin had been the best three days of my life. It was so beautiful and loving and amazing, and Toby was a huge part of that. He'd made sure everything was perfect for me and that all of my needs were satisfied. I never wanted to leave. But when we finally did, a big lump formed in my throat. If I had it my way, I would've stayed with Toby at the cabin forever, enjoying him all to myself.

My eyes darted to Toby's spot on the bed, panicking when no one was there. It was cold, vacant of a human being. The only thing I had on was one of Toby's T-shirts and a black, lacy see-through thong.

I lifted myself up from the floor. "Toby?"

I looked around the room, trying to breathe. Something happened to me in that Dollhouse, something terrible. I didn't have all the details, but I recognized the shadow.

It was Charles.

I didn't know who I had hurt or what happened, but Charles did. He made me do something _horrible_. _Could_ I have killed someone? Sure, I could lose my temper, and yes, I could be pushed to the limit, but it was still hard for me to believe that I had it in me to kill.

But then why was I covered in blood when I woke up in the Dollhouse? I barely remembered anything the night before. A knew so many of my secrets and my friends', it wouldn't be necessary for him to lie; the evidence was right there in front of me. I had done it. Perhaps Charles knew who I had killed and was waiting for the perfect moment to use it against me. And who was that little girl in that creepy room? She'd looked familiar and foreign all at once, but I couldn't shake this strange feeling that something was wrong, like a missing piece to the mystery.

Toby stepped out of the bathroom then, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped dangerously low around his naked waist, which was threatening to fall off his hips. It showed so much of him that I could see his torso. His body was dripping wet from his shower, water bulging in all the right places, over his chest and beautiful abs. I was so turned on that my mouth began to salivate. He was just so wet and sexy.

I stared lustfully as a couple droplets slid down his abs. My pelvis throbbed for him, and I was suddenly filled with the animalistic urge to rip off his towel.

Toby's expression was alarmed. "Spencer? Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?"

I bit my lower lip and smiled. Rather than answering him, I moved closer to him, my heart pounding.

Seeming to intuit my mood, Toby tugged at the fabric of my shirt, pulling me towards him. "That's my shirt."

"And you're never getting it back." I put my hands on his waist, lingering near the towel.

"I don't want it back," he whispered. Then he bent his head down to mine and his lips were on mine.

Toby cupped the back of my head as he gently slipped his tongue slowly and deeply into my mouth, and the universe glowed in vivid color again. Nothing else existed but Toby and his searing lips on mine.

I drew my mouth from his and pushed my hands against his chest flirtatiously. _It's time_ , I thought excitedly.

Very slowly, I lifted my shirt over my head, revealing my bare breasts and lacy thong. The black lace covered only a little bit of my cheeks, showing my full bottom, and the straps around my hips were as thin as ribbons. It rested below my navel, where some of my naughty parts were peeking through.

I hooked my fingers underneath the thin straps of my thong and pulled them over my hips, teasing him. Toby groaned and pulled me in for a long, loving kiss, and I parted my lips for him. I slowly moved my tongue with his, sipping on him.

I shuddered as I yielded to him and kissed his soft mouth, the passion surging through me like wildfire. I felt the electricity sparking, charging higher and higher, connecting us closer. I kissed him more fiercely now, trying to catch up to his longing passion. My heart thudded amidst our kisses, infusing our desire.

My fingers brushed along his hipbones, fondling with his towel. I felt Toby shiver beneath my touch by a pleasure that made my insides tremble.

I slid my hands down his navel as we continued to kiss, and slowly tugged off his towel. My pelvis throbbed with deep desire from seeing the length of his impressive bulge. It sent tingles below my navel, scampering down in between my thighs. I couldn't control it.

I reached for his member, stroking and rubbing it with my hand. Toby groaned against my lips. Our kisses turned more urgent, and we backed into the bed.

He slid his hands inside the sides of my undies and quickly slid them off my hips, leaving me naked and vulnerable in front of him. Every inch of my body felt electrified, buzzing with pleasure.

Toby rubbed his hands sensually against my breasts. I wanted him to lick me. He sucked on my navel, and I quivered.

"I love you," I sighed. I grabbed his face roughly in between my hands and crushed my lips to his.

"I love _you_ ," Toby murmured. "Let me show you how much."

Suddenly, Toby's head disappeared in between my legs, and I felt him in there. I clutched the sheets fiercely on either side of me and moaned. He pushed in deeper, sucking on me. I wrapped my legs around his head and he went in further.

After a few minutes of sucking and licking, Toby stopped to stroke my face, gazing at me with immeasurable love. He was looking at me as though I was the most beautiful woman in the world.

And then Toby wrapped his legs around my waist, settling gently onto my hips. I started breathing heavily. I wanted this so badly. I placed my legs over his shoulders and dug my heels into his back as he moved inside me.

I groaned at the feeling of him in me. He was so big and firm. He moved wildly against me, stealing my breath. Something in me swelled, making me weak.

"Tell me the story again, Toby," I rasped.

"But it's made up," Toby said.

"I don't care."

"When I was in the army," he began, "there were many soldiers unattended in their cabins. So we had a lot of opportunities to be…discreet. There were a lot of women, a lot of lovers." His voice was low and husky, turning me on. Sexy.

I moaned. I felt a burning-hot orgasm shiver below my navel, exploding throughout my entire body and into his. I knew Toby could feel it, because he sped up. The heat between us scorched my skin. I was hot.

"Oohhhh!" Toby yelped.

Toby jerked against my hips, digging me deeply into the mattress. I gasped and clutched at his butt with my fingers, trying to hold on as he grinded into me. Oh, I loved him so much.

"Put it all the way in," I panted.

He obeyed. When I felt him move all the way in completely, I moaned deeply. Toby jerked gently inside me, slowly filling me.

"Don't stop, please!" I begged. "More, more!"

Toby rolled his hips sensually, but firmly against mine as he continued to make love to me. We were both sweating like crazy now, out of breath, getting closer. Every stroke of his member inside me felt more pleasurable and satisfying than the next.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I cried. "YEEEESSSSSSSS!"

He groaned and moved in deeply, lingering at my special spot. I locked my legs around his waist and pushed him into me, refusing to let go. Toby gently tugged on my nipple with his teeth and something deep inside me quivered, making me wet. I groaned.

Toby parted his lips over my breast and began to suck, licking it smoothly. He continued to work on it while he cupped my other breast in his hand, massaging it. Several erotic sensations swarmed through my body as he kissed my chest. I moaned, writhing against the bed.

Finally, I squeezed my legs around him and rolled on top of him, pressing my palms against his sweaty, muscular chest. The sight of it made my pelvis burn.

I spread my legs far apart and straddled his hips like a lioness, getting ready for her prey. A deep growl escaped my lips, trembling with longing. I needed him inside me. Then Toby's mouth captured mine again, and I gasped. His hands stroked my back as he kissed me, touching me all over.

I leaned down and pressed my lips softly to his. I wanted to make love to him all morning.

I fit myself to him, and we were moving together again. I panted hard as I pushed rapidly on top of him like a bunny, losing control. I could feel him getting me there, and I sped up in excitement.

Suddenly, my belly pooled with desire, then stilled. "Don't move."

Toby paused as my orgasm rippled through me, swallowing me whole. Somewhere deep below my navel burned with undeniable passion. When I finally got there, I moved swiftly against his hips, jerking into him beyond my control.

Then we began ramming the headboard against the wall with our movements. I rolled my hips against his slowly, taking my time. Toby groaned and clutched the sheets in his hands. My back arched as I thrusted against him and screamed like a wild animal.

It felt like our first time, the way it felt the very first time that we touched, aside from the pain of him spreading through my virginity. Nervous, excited, terrified. I was not a virgin; I'd given everything away to the one person I loved and trusted completely: Toby.

All I felt was pleasure in this moment. It cascaded through my body like a waterfall. This felt new to me, yet familiar and exciting all at once as our bodies tangled as one in the bed sheets. No holding back, no fear.

My body shook uncontrollably from the anticipation, of waiting and wanting for so long. The need wound tighter and stronger, vibrating between us like magnets. Something stronger than love made me tremble with longing and passion. The sensations were so intense, it nearly frightened me, pulling me in a million different directions. All I could see was Toby.

Just his soft touch against my skin sparkled my body alive, making me sensitive to everything about him. I could taste his sweet, intoxicating kisses upon mine, could feel the unbelievable softness and heat radiating from his fingertips as he moved them all over my body, his skin on my skin. I wanted Toby to see the way I'd been dreaming of this moment. It was a picture of perfection, the vision of us making love.

Tension built up higher and higher, until I felt the sweet heave of release. I cried out as I spurted all of my energy in that moment, savoring every last taste. Our sex left a sweet, candy-coated taste in my mouth, and I wanted more.

We didn't stop to catch our breath; we never wanted to stop. Toby had the most beautiful, perfect body and I had him all to myself. I didn't want it to ever end.

As I rocked against Toby, I felt a light gasping battering inside my ribs. I slowed, settling onto his strong hips.

"She's kicking," I smiled. I took Toby's hand and placed it on my tummy.

Toby's lips spread up into a grin and he leaned up to kiss my stomach. "Hi, baby. Daddy loves you."

Another flutter thrummed against the walls of my stomach. Three hearts, beating together as one. One family.

Hours later, I squirmed slightly next to Toby naked in bed, needing to be closer still.

He moved his cheek to my hair. "Spencer, what's wrong?"

"I want to snuggle."

Toby opened up his arms for me and I slid into his chest, snuggling deeply into him.

"You're snuggly this morning," he murmured into my hair.

"It's the baby," I lied. "She wants to be closer to you."

Toby caught my bluff. "It's you." He kissed the side of my head playfully, and I giggled.

He cupped my cheek and brought my mouth onto his, kissing me deeply and passionately. Our lips didn't separate, not even for a second.

After spending several glorious minutes kissing, I collapsed against his chest, breathing hard. Toby held me against him, stroking my hair softly. I sighed and nuzzled into his beautiful chest.

"I'm sorry, I just…" I sighed. "I just love you so much."

"Shhh." Toby kissed the side of my head, moving down to my ear. "I love you, too," he whispered, sucking on my earlobe.

I sighed happily. My cheek was pressed against Toby's chest and he was holding me close to him, tenderly stroking my hair. With his arms wrapped around me tightly, I never felt safer and more content. No one and nothing could pop my bubble of happiness now.

I drew small circles onto Toby's chest. "Do you have to go to that seminar?" I asked sadly.

Toby rubbed his nose into my hair, smelling my scent. "Yes. If I could get out of it, I would."

Tanner had called Toby urgently not long after we'd come back from Bucks County, telling him she needed him at a police seminar in Harrisburg immediately for the investigation of Charles DiLaurentis. Lorenzo and one of the local police department's deputies, Barry Maple, would also be attending because of the threat Charles had imposed on five innocent teenage girls, and they would all be filing a strategy plan to trap Charles. Toby would only be there to observe the meeting, Tanner had said. Two of the FBI agents working with the Rosewood Police Department on the case, Cruize and Hoffman, would help provide new information regarding Charles or any new suspects involved. Tanner also wanted to increase patrol around Rosewood and enforce a curfew as well.

I knew why he had to go, but the thought still left a painful ache. I buried my face into his chest, trying to hide the sorrow in my expression.

Toby brushed back my hair. "Hey, I'll just be in Harrisburg for a few days, and then I'll be back."

I sighed softly at his fingers in my hair.

"Don't you think it's time?" he asked quietly after a moment.

I peered up at him. "For what?"

"To tell your parents about the baby."

I let out a deep sigh. "Toby, I'm not ready."

"It's not going to be any easier the longer we wait," Toby murmured. "They'll begin to notice when the baby grows bigger. It's best to tell them now."

"I'm not ready, okay?"

He kissed my cheek. "I'm going to be here the whole time, okay? You're never alone, not even for a second."

I lifted my face up to his reluctantly, where Toby kissed me softly on the lips. "Promise?"

"I promise," he whispered. "That reminds me."

Toby leaned over the nightstand without disturbing my position against him. I snuggled closer to him and slid my hand across his chest, sighing happily. I loved lying naked with him.

He reached into the top drawer of my old bedside table and pulled out something small and shiny. In his hand was a silver key. It was Toby's key to the loft, I realized.

Toby pressed the key into my palm. "A home warming present. I love you."

I examined it in my hand. "Is this…?"

"It's the key to my loft." He smiled. "Our loft."

"Oh, Toby, I love you too." I immediately smashed my mouth to his, kissing him so deeply that I thought I would burst from the love I felt for him. I pulled away to gaze at Toby and he stared back at me, his eyes halfway closed, as if he was dreaming.

I traced my fingers over his face, amazed that this was the beginning of my forever with him.

After taking a shower with Toby, I had gotten dressed in a blue and white striped tunic, black leggings and my knee-high red suede boots, and pulled on my maternity belly band underneath. I'd walked downstairs into the kitchen to find Toby brewing cherry tart juice in a teapot on the stove for my anxiety. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted up my nose that my mom had made before leaving for the gym this morning. But I was well into my sixth month of pregnancy and I wasn't about to hurt my little one by drinking a cup of coffee.

I had my cell phone wedged between my chin and shoulder as I stuffed my schoolbooks into my brown leather Kate Spade tote bag, filling in Aria about my nightmare from last night.

"Hold it," Aria said over the phone. "Go back. Did you see his face in the dream?"

"The word is nightmare," I reminded her. "And no, I didn't. That's why I fell off the bed."

"So who was the little girl?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I've never seen her before." I paused, thinking back to the little girl from my dream. "Or maybe I have."

"Well, again, Spencer, it was just a dream," she tried to assure me. "Or nightmare."

My hands started shaking. "Well, what about that creepy room? I mean, do you remember ever seeing it–"

"I don't know, and if I did, I've completely burned it from my brain," Aria cut me off. She paused after a moment. "Listen, I should go."

"Wait, wait," I pleaded. "When we went back inside after A locked us out, do you remember a tiled room? It was right next to the–"

"Spencer, I do not wanna–"

"Aria, please. Just help me." My voice rose higher.

"I can't. Seriously. It–it is taking all that I have to forget that place." She sighed. "It is bad enough that I can't even walk by the photo lab–"

"What did you do with that hair dye?" I interrupted. As I spoke, I grabbed a handful of the toasted bread that Toby had cooked for me off my plate, spread jam onto it with a knife, and shoveled it into my mouth hungrily.

Last week, when Aria went to the dark room at Hollis College to develop her photos, she'd found a bottle of hair dye with a message from A attached that read: _You're MY doll, bitch._ Aria had remembered it from her time at the Dollhouse when A had forced her to dye her hair in pink stripes the way she had in ninth grade, or he would cut off all her hair. Panicked by A's note, Aria hurried to the exit. But when she tried to open the door, it was locked from the outside. Sometime later that day, a guy named Clark let her out, who had been working in the next room and saw that someone had put a wedge in the door, trapping Aria inside.

I peered up at Toby guiltily, hoping he couldn't hear. I still hadn't told him the whole truth about Charles. But the steamer on the teapot was shrieking was loud that he hadn't even looked up.

I heard Aria let out a long sigh. "You're giving me cramps."

"Aria, we can't just throw away clues," I insisted. I chewed the bread slowly in my mouth, savoring the sweet jam.

"What're eating?" Aria sounded suspicious.

I took another greedy bite when a square of hot pick caught my eye. On the coffee machine, someone had stuck a Post-It note on the pot's glass. I recognized my mother's scrolling, perfect script and resisted the urge to smash the coffee pot onto the floor. My mom had written, Mr. Hackett needs an answer.

Yesterday, after Toby and I had come home from our romantic getaway, my mom had lectured me for leaving without a note about where I was going. Then she'd told me that Rosewood High's principal, Mr. Hackett, wanted me to be the senior class valedictorian at graduation this coming June, which was only a few weeks away. And although I'd refused, she continued to pressure me into accepting his offer. My mother was actually _encouraging_ me to say yes. It felt so wrong.

I could already picture the auditorium when I gave them my valedictorian speech, all those people pitying me. There would be police officers in every perimeter of the school, securing the exit and entrances. Then I'd have to be escorted out of the building with my friends while the other graduates got their pictures taken. And my mother would hand over a million dollar check to principal Hackett for rewarding me with the role of valedictorian, but everyone else would know it was only a pity nomination for what I went through in the Dollhouse. I didn't want to be rewarded for something I never asked for. I didn't need it then, and I certainly didn't need it now.

"Hello?" Aria said. "Spencer, are you there?"

"Yeah. I'm still here." I walked up to the coffee machine and ripped off the note in one fierce motion. "My mother's just sitting on my chest. She's still on my case about this stupid valedictorian thing."

I reached up into the cupboard and grabbed my favorite green-and-white coffee travel mug, and then moved to the massive stainless-steel fridge to pull out a jug of Vitamin C orange juice.

"Well, why don't you just say yes?" Aria asked.

"Because it's a pity toss, that's why," I said, pouring the orange juice into my thermos. "I've been gone for over a month. She probably offered to buy them a planetarium."

"Just do it," Aria urged. "Please, just give me a friggin' reason to go to graduation."

"Oh, really?" I said sarcastically. "Now you wanna go to graduation? I thought your dad excused you from ever having to set foot in school again?"

Suddenly, the teapot on the kitchen stove squealed, signaling the tart juice was finished. Toby turned off the heater on the stove and carefully put down the teapot on the cool, steel surface.

"Oh, God," I said into the phone. "I have to run."

"What just happened?" Aria sounded confused.

"Uh, my mom just got back from Curves and I'm not having this argument with her after she pumped iron," I lied. "I'll call you later, okay? Bye." I quickly hung up and moved over to the stove by Toby, smiling up at him.

He handed me a ceramic cup of cherry tart juice, his fingers brushing against mine. The instant our hands touched, a spark of electricity jostled through me. My heart hammered inside my chest.

"Why don't you do the valedictorian speech?" Toby asked suddenly, meeting my eyes.

I lowered my eyes, trying to avoid looking up into the intensity of his gaze. I knew one look at him, and I would cave.

I took a sip of my juice. "I don't know how I feel about it. Everyone looks at me like I'm a dog with wheels. What's the point of giving a valedictorian speech if they're only letting you do it out of pity?"

"They wouldn't have asked you to speak if they didn't think you were right for the part," he said. "You're one of the smartest, most capable, and greatest speaker I know."

I flushed and turned my face away bashfully. "Toby, I really appreciate the encouragement, but to be valedictorian you need something you have accomplished, something to be proud of. The only greatest achievement I have is that I survived high school."

"I would love to hear what you have to write." Toby cupped my cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. "But I'll support you no matter what you decide. I'll always be here for you."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I was so sensitive to everything now. Even Toby's light touch was enough to drive me insane.

I pressed my cheek into his palm, kissing his fingers. "I want you," I whispered.

"Then come here." Toby wrapped his arms around me, and I snuggled into his chest.

I pressed my nose into his shirt, inhaling his sweet scent of soap and spices. He kissed the top of my head.

Toby pulled away reluctantly to reach for something sitting on the counter, but I still clung to him. When I looked up, he handed me a bundle of cherry tart juice packets that were tied together with some string.

"I got you some more cherry tart juice at the store while I'm away. They're supposed to help you sleep."

At the mention of him leaving, emotion swelled in me and my lower lip quivered. "But I don't want you to go."

I set down the packets on the table and threw my arms around him. My eyes began to blur with tears as I sobbed into his neck.

Toby rubbed my back. "Shhhh. It's only for a few days. I'll be back before you know it."

The sound of his voice soothing me was so comforting. I didn't know how I was going to survive these next few days without him. I hated being away from Toby, even for a minute.

More tears slid down my cheeks. "I really don't want you to go."

Toby tightened his arms around me. "Me neither. I hate leaving you so much."

He picked me up by the waist, and I wrapped my legs around him tightly. I wanted to hug him forever.

"The baby and I will miss you so much." I buried my face into his neck and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'll miss you, too," Toby whispered.

My stomach twisted in a million knots when the house's main door squeaked open, and my heart raced. A second later, I heard the sound of my father's car rolling into the driveway, announcing his arrival. Oh, why did Toby have to call him? The second we heard my parents,' Toby set me down on my feet.

I quickly grabbed my cashmere sweater from the couch and wrapped it securely around myself, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I wanted to hide my baby bump from them, or shrink into the couch.

Toby squeezed my hand, as if sensing my anxiety. "It's going to be okay," he assured me. "I'm right here."

I nodded, but my insides still trembled. Toby pulled me onto the couch with him, keeping my hand in his.

I heard the crunch of gravel outside as my dad walked up to the side of the house. The handle turned, and he pushed through the door at the same time my mother walked into the kitchen. The stench of car fumes filtering inside was overwhelming, and suddenly, my breakfast from this morning came hurtling back.

In his crisp black suit and silver tie, my father looked more like the head CEO of a million-dollar company than a successful attorney. And my mother wore a sleek black suit and nude slingback pumps. They both looked at Toby and I in confusion when they spotted us sitting together on the couch. Lately, my dad had been putting in more of an effort to be civil towards Toby, unlike my mom, who adored him. But I was sure that would end soon.

My stomach rolled. I grabbed my cup from the glass coffee table and took a sip of the cherry tart juice that Toby had concocted up for me. The liquid slid down my throat, a sweet, biter taste.

My dad was the first to speak. "Hey, Spencer. Toby. What's going on?"

"We have something we need to talk to you about," I said in what I hoped was a calm voice. "We have some…news to share."

Veronica and Peter stared at us for a minute before sitting down in the matching cushioned chairs opposite of us. My dad's expression changed from confusion to suspicion in just seconds. The room was so quiet, I could hear the air conditioning vents whirring.

I took a deep breath. "Mom, dad, there's no easy way to say this."

My dad went ridged. "You're pregnant!" he exploded.

I stared at him with wide, stunned eyes, cringing away from him into Toby, and immediately covered my stomach with the throw blanket that was draped over the armchair of the couch to hide the evidence.

He glared at Toby. "Did he do this to you?"

"Peter, calm down," my mom said. "Let's see what they have to say first."

A long pause passed. After a moment, my mother turned to me and asked, "Spencer, are you really pregnant?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes."

My dad glowered darkly at me. "How could you be so carless and reckless? I thought we raised you better than that."

My jaw dropped, and I saw Toby's hand clench into a tight fist.

My mother's face paled. "I don't even know what to say."

"I know what you must be thinking," I started.

"No, I don't think you do," she said sternly. "This is your future we're talking about! You can say goodbye to college."

A fire of anger pushed through me from my mother's harsh words. "Well, maybe I don't want to go to college right now."

My mom glanced down at my stomach, finally noticing the rapid size of it underneath my cashmere sweater. I felt like I was going to vomit.

"Have you not given a thought at all about what you're going to do? I mean…" She wrung her hands in helplessness and looked down.

"I am ashamed that you are my daughter," my father said. "If it were up to me, I'd throw you out of this house right now."

I glowered at him. "Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore. I'll be living with Toby. All of my stuff is moved into his loft. And we'll be turning one of the rooms into a nursery for the baby."

"You two are planning to _move in_ together?" my mother asked in astonishment.

My dad's face reddened. "Spencer, I will not let you embarrass this family!"

"I'm keeping her!" I shouted. "I've loved her ever since I first found out."

Emotional tears sprung to my eyes as I tore them away. The grief and overwhelming love I felt for my daughter was so strong it felt like my chest would explode. I wished my parents would hold me in their arms and tell me everything was going to be okay. But they couldn't even _look_ at me. My dad's words still stung: _I am ashamed that you are my daughter._ He had never said anything like that to me before.

"Do you realize what you have done?" my mother asked. "What were you thinking?"

Toby put a hand on my back and then turned to my mother. "Mrs. Hastings, Spencer and I are having this baby together. You can either support us, or we'll raise her on our own. But either way, we are having a baby." He squeezed my hand comfortingly.

And then my dad's eyes locked onto the ring on my finger and a look of disgust came over his face. I held my breath, bracing myself for the worst.

For a long time, neither of my parents said anything. My mother pursed her lips, deep in thought. My father's black expression soon turned to rage, his jaw clenched. They studied the two of us for what seemed like an eternity.

Then my dad gave me a withering look. "Get your things. And then get out of my sight." He rose from his chair and left the room, slamming the patio door behind him.

I couldn't hold back the sob that was stuck in my throat. Tears ran down my cheeks.

A hint of sympathy glimmered on my mother's face, but it quickly vanished as quickly as if it had never been there to begin with. She gave me one last long, disappointed look before standing up and walking up the stairs to her bedroom without saying a word to either Toby and I.

I balled my hands into fists, willing myself to stop crying. I wanted to curl up into a tiny ball and disappear. Toby rubbed my back and pulled me into his chest, murmuring that everything was going to be okay. I sniveled as I cried into his shirt.

After a few minutes, my sobs slowly began to subside and I relaxed in Toby's arms. He reached over to wipe a few stray tears that had leaked out of my eyes.

I tried to keep my chin from wobbling, wanting to be strong. But when I looked into the deep blue depths of Toby's eyes, my body collapsed into him, shaking uncontrollably.

"Do you see what you're leaving me with?" I wept.

Toby cradled me to his chest. "Spence, I'm always with you, even when I'm not. And besides, I already called Emily and she's going to look after you while I'm gone."

I sighed, starting to feel myself relax. "Thank you."

He stroked my cheek tenderly. "I would never leave you alone. I'm going to call you every morning and every night, and then I'll be home and you'll be back in my arms."

I leaned into his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat, and he wrapped his arms around me.

I snuggled in Toby's arms for a while longer as he held me, using his shirt as my tissue. Once he was sure I calm, Toby put on his jacket and gathered all his stuff into his police bag for the seminar. Then he kissed me goodbye at the door, prolonging it for as long as he could, almost like he didn't want to leave either.

A painful ache hit me with overpowering strength as I watched him drive out of the house's driveway in his truck. And even though I was carrying a baby, my stomach suddenly felt empty, a void that couldn't be filled. I hated seeing him go. I was going to miss him so much.

Sighing sadly, I grabbed my purse and the cherry tart juice packets Toby had given me, and got into the front seat of my Toyota. I couldn't get out of here fast enough.

As I drove, the picture of the young girl dancing in that room popped back into my head, almost like it had somehow embedded itself into my brain. A swarm of emotions overpowered me then: terror from being trapped in that Dollhouse, anger what A had done to me, the grief over thinking I had lost Toby again. Our love had survived so much, and yet A was testing it. _Again_. And I couldn't get rid of this feeling that I'd been there before when I was in the Dollhouse. The nightmare still gave me chills just thinking about it.

My head spun, trying to analyze every detail of the dream. To remember something, anything. My gut twisted painfully as I realized how I must have recognized that room. From A, when he made me hurt someone from the night I couldn't remember. That must have been how it all happened.

Tears stung my eyes, a reaction in partial to my pregnancy and another in part to not knowing what I had done or why. I tried focusing on the empty road in front of me instead. After Toby's car accident six months ago, I didn't want to take another trip to the hospital and worry him.

It was early by the time I arrived at school, but kids were still loitering in the courtyard for morning breakfast and coffee. I put a hand self-consciously on my stomach as I strolled up Rosewood High's stone steps, trying to flatten out my tunic so no one would notice my baby bump.

I hadn't even taken two steps through the hallway before running into Hanna, who immediately delved into her run-in with Leslie Stone at The Brew this morning. After Mona was discovered to be alive by the police, it soon became apparent that Lesli had lied on the stand in court for Mona's faked murder and was now being questioned by the police.

As Hanna chattered about Leslie and Mona, I found my thoughts drifting back to Toby. Even though I'd only said goodbye to him this morning, I was going crazy missing him. Just imagining Toby's big, strong, sexy hands all over my body, of his skin touching mine, made my pelvis throb. The desire was so strong, it was difficult to think of anything else.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, I pulled my phone out of my bag. Toby was probably sitting in a conference right now with Tanner and a bunch of other police officers, but I couldn't control my emotions. So I typed in a message to him and hit SEND.

 _Hey babe, I miss you. When are you coming back?_

Immediately, Toby responded with a new text, telling me all the things he wanted to do to me when he came back, and my spirits lifted.

I quickly wrote back. _Guess what I'm wearing._

My iPhone vibrated again, and a steamy shirtless picture of Toby appeared on the screen. My thighs tingled, making my pelvis flood with heat.

I smiled and bit my lip, admiring Toby's impressive abs and the firmness of his thighs against the skin-tight boxers he was wearing in the photo. Judging by the looks of the silky black sheets Toby was sitting on, I had to guess he had taken it at the lake house from our romantic weekend together.

I sidled up next to Hanna, not even bothering to pretend I was listening anymore. _Why can't you come back sooner?_ I sexted back. _I want to be naked with you now!_

I waited impatiently as Toby sent back a reply. _Spence, I'll be back before you know it._

Frustrated, I clicked through the photos on my iPhone, selecting the right one and clicked SEND, writing, _Can you come back now?_ flirtatiously. It was the half-naked photo I had taken of myself in my bedroom a couple days ago. In the photo, I was sitting on the black and white floral comforter with my legs curled up underneath me, wearing only a thin pair of lacy black panties. My arms were crossed over my chest, covering my bare breasts suggestively.

Within seconds, Toby had responded:

 _Spence, I miss you so much. I promise when I come back we'll spend a lot of quality time together ;)_

My fingers slid across the key buttons as I sent another picture of myself to Toby. This one was of me in a crawling position on the bed like a cat, completely naked. The shape of my butt and breasts were exposed, and I was looking at the camera in a seductive pout. Underneath, I had written, _I'll be waiting for you._

 _You're so sexy, baby,_ Toby wrote back.

I was so engrossed and lost in my sexting with Toby that I barely heard what Hanna was saying. I'd only caught partially of what she'd said. "…I mean, she acts like being questioned by the police is the same thing Mona's been through. And then she turns it on me. _Me._ I'm like, 'Hello! I should be biting your head off, freak. You're the one who testified against me.' Am I wrong?"

I stared down at my phone's screen and smiled giddily, feeling as though my whole body was vibrating. Toby was making me so horny, it was driving me crazy. And I began to wonder if I would be able to put up with the next few days without him. I needed his touch.

Hanna peered over my shoulder and glowered at me. "Okay, unless you're texting me the answer, you're rude."

We found an empty round table in the outdoor courtyard and sat down, with Hanna sitting across from me. Reluctantly, I looked up, distracted. "Wha… I'm sorry. Um, Toby's not back till Monday. That's a really long time to wait."

"Wait for what?" Hanna asked.

I turned to her and smiled, raising my eyebrows suggestively.

"Eww, why would you say that?" she protested.

"I didn't say anything," I said as innocently as I could. "I just smiled."

"Well, your cup may runneth over, but mine is bone dry," Hanna said glumly.

The smile faded from my lips. "Eww, why? Did you and Caleb have a fight?"

"No, we don't even fight anymore," Hanna answered. "He treats me like some cracked egg that fell out of a robin's nest."

Suddenly, Hanna's iPhone rang on the table, making a dinging sound. I looked at Hanna, thinking it must have been Caleb.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Mona," she replied, looking at the text on her phone's screen. "She's scared of Alison _and_ Lesli Stone now."

"Uh, just stay out of it," I told her.

But Hanna was adamant. "Hell no. Lesli is a freaking lunatic who needs a serious reality check. Mona was locked in a hole by someone who is still out there. Her _friend_ should forgive her."

I averted my eyes and pursed my lips thoughtfully, feeling a glimmer of uneasiness tremble in my stomach. I recalled the faux look on Lesli's face when the prosecutor asked her why she didn't come forward with the information about Alison killing Mona sooner when she'd first disappeared. And the burst of anger that swept through me when she'd accused Hanna of stalking her. Lesli was crazy and she wasn't safe to be around right now. What if Lesli told the police that I had hurt someone from our time in the Dollhouse? After everything that had happened, A was still after us.

"That's not staying out of it," I lectured.

"Spencer, we can't have Mona quaking in her boots when we need that boot to kick the doors down at Radley," Hanna argued. "I mean, I'm not going back to that shredding place and Mona knows Radley more than any of us."

"Does she have any idea who could be posing as Ali's dead brother?" I pulled out a small plastic bag of chocolate-chip cookies from my purse and dove in.

"Don't say dead," Hanna said. "Charles isn't dead- _dead_ until we find something to prove it."

She eyed the bag of cookies and tried to grab one, but I quickly smacked her hand away. An irrational streak of irritation and frustration jolted through me. Lately, I'd developed a craving for cookies and other sweets, like I couldn't get enough. And even though I just had breakfast with Toby this morning, my appetite had somehow morphed into a relentless, ravenous hunger.

"Ow!" Hanna cried. "What is wrong with you?"

I stuffed another cookie into my mouth, chewing the doughy goodness as the chocolate melted onto my tongue. "It's not your cookie."

Hanna looked offended. "Okay, first you're sexting Toby like some dog in heat and then you're gumming at your dessert like my grandma. How long do you want that cookie to last?"

"We're not talking about me, okay?" I said, changing the subject. "The subject is Charles, and it's not gonna be easy breaking into Radley with or without Mona."

Maybe I was giving up too easily, but I couldn't handle the stress for the baby. And I didn't feel any clearer about the flashes. Everything seemed blurry, like I'd just woken up from a very bad dream.

Hanna narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. "Are you buzzed?"

I frowned. "What? No. Hanna, focus."

She wasn't convinced. "You have the same look in your eyes as this girl in my government class who hums and makes chokers out of paper clips."

"I'm not humming," I insisted. "I'm just…I'm missing Toby." A miserable feeling swelled inside me.

"Well, Dr. Oz says sex is a drug, too, Spencer. Maybe you should figure that one out." Hanna picked up her purse off the table and strolled through the school's doors inside.

I glared at her back, fury rippling through me like lightening. Maybe it was just pregnancy hormones, but all I could think about in that moment was the rush of anger filling my body forcefully–at my parents for not supporting my decision to keep this baby. At A for torturing me in that Dollhouse for weeks. At myself for missing Toby so much and feeling so helpless. And most importantly, at Hanna for judging me about wanting to be close to Toby and making me feel shameful of it, leaving me to muddle with my own grim thoughts.

Blood pounded in my head, my stomach twisting in disgust at Hanna, and the rage bubbled over. I was pregnant; I had a right to feel hormonal. Hot, angry tears stung my eyes as I shoved the bag of cookies back into my purse and stomped off into the hall.

When my iPhone beeped, I jumped and felt for it in my purse, pulling it out. My stomach dropped. It was who I feared.

Tick tock, time's running out. If you try to find out who I am, it won't just be Bethany Young's blood that has spilled. I'm watching you, Spencer, and your newborn.

And, of course, it was signed, _A._

Jess

After leaving Jason's, I soaked in the tub at the cabin for thirty minutes and changed into a long sleeved black-and-red plaid shirt and distressed black skinny jeans, pairing it with my short leather combat boots. I'd let the hot water soak into my skin and the light, flowery fragrance from my bath hung in the air. Once I vigorously scrubbed away at the tiny cuts and bruises on my arms and legs with soap, I quickly ran a brush through my hair.

I knew it was ridiculous to try to get clean given what I was about to do tonight, but I didn't care. I wouldn't be staying long after, anyway. With the instructions Payton had sent just an hour ago to the location of where Jonny would be meeting us, my best guess was that we'd be holding the trap deep in the woods. I wasn't expecting to escape or survive this. The lower the expectations, the better.

I pulled a warm black beanie over my head, grabbed my bag of belongings, and tromped through the cabin's gated yard to my new car, which was sitting parked just to the back of the property. I stared at the red, shiny Honda Civic, still in disbelief that it was really mine. With its black leather seats and sleek lines, it wasn't hard to notice that the car was gorgeous. Payton had given it to me shortly after I'd arrived in Rosewood, making me feel more like a princess than anything. Even after I insisted that I didn't need one–I was perfectly fine traveling on foot and hopping on buses–he told me to get over myself and keep it. I didn't feel comfortable with such an expensive gift, but knowing Payton, he wouldn't let up until he got what he wanted.

After stuffing my bag into the backseat of the car, I slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, purring like a panther. I peeled away from the house and drove slowly down the road, heading towards an isolated spot in the middle of the thick woods that stretched for miles.

My heart pounded as I stopped the car on the fresh earthy ground and stepped out. It was so dark out that I could barely see my feet. The sky was clear and black, with no sign of the moon or any starlight in sight.

Slowly, I approached the forest clearing up ahead, which was concealed by trees and shrubs, when I heard some rustling coming from somewhere off in the woods. I took a few steps back. After months of Jonny tracking me, I couldn't shake the paranoid feeling that I was being watched.

As I cautiously neared the trees, I could hear two hushed voices, talking quietly. I recognized a girl's smooth, lilting voice and hurried to the clearing. Payton and Alison both looked up when they saw me.

Ali had changed into a pair of her favorite French APC jeans and a striped cotton halter top that she'd tied in a perfect bow at her neck. Payton wore a faded grey T-shirt and dark blue jeans. Slung over his shoulder was a quiver full of arrows and he had a recurve arsenal bow gripped in his hand, intricately crafted and hand-finished in black leather and steel. A small dagger was attached at the upper limb of the bow. I couldn't help but notice the arrows glowed green at the tips, and I realized they were Payton's specially-made tranquilizer arrows to knock people out. Payton only ever used them when he had no other choice.

"Ready?" Ali asked, turning to me.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I replied solemnly.

Payton walked over to a copse of trees. "I'll be right here behind these trees." He looked to Alison and pointed to some bushes across the edge of the forest's clearing. "Ali, you need to be there by the bushes. Jess will stand in the center for Jonny. I'll come right out from behind him, okay?"

Ali nodded. "Okay." She moved behind the bushes and hunched onto her knees, making herself as small as possible.

Payton gestured for me to stand beside him at the rock boulder that was sitting in the middle of the forest clearing. "Jess, come over here. When Jonny comes, he's not going to lay a hand on you. Do you remember what you have to do?"

"Yes," I answered.

He slipped off the dagger from his bow and pressed it gently into my palm. I slid the sleek metal underneath the sleeve of my shirt. It felt cool and firm in my hand, and a sense of reassurance washed over me.

"Get in your positions," Payton instructed.

I moved to the middle of the sparse woods, planting my feet into the ground. After a minute, I looked up to the moon bathing me in its luminous glow, and I exhaled a breath of relief. At least there was some light. The paved trails from both directions were empty. It was so quiet, I could hear the crickets chirping.

I breathed in sharply as a horrible thought came over me and the sky seemed to darken. What if Jonny had come solely to Rosewood to get close to Spencer? And if Jonny _was_ working for A and he'd been able to get information from her about Ali, it only made sense that he would know what Charles was up to and where he was hiding. Maybe he had tricked Spencer the same way he'd fooled me.

Was I an idiot to think I could pull this off and free myself from Jonny's grasp? From my father? Or what if this was another one of A's well-laid plans to set me up the way Jonny had? Slowly, I let my mind creep over the private, intricate details of my relationship with Jonny. I'd first met Jonny over the summer, right after I'd gotten out of a rehab facility in Colorado for my drug addiction. I'd been clean for eight months when I got out. Jonny had approached me at an art gallery opening there in Boulder one day, critiquing an abstract painting by one of the artists. Art collectors from all over New York had come to see the exhibit, and the gallery was offering wine and gourmet food while the art pieces were being sold off. I was skeptical of Jonny at first, but after having a couple glasses of wine and assessing more paintings with him, I realized he wasn't as arrogant and vile as he seemed. After that, we began dating. I was hooked.

Jonny obviously knew about Spencer before coming to Rosewood, looking for me, but could he have really used her just to get to me? Or was it something more diabolical than that? If he did feel something for her, then he was trying to create a rift between Spencer and her boyfriend, Toby Cavanaugh, the guy she so desperately loved. After all, Jonny was the one who kept Spencer distracted when Toby had to work late shifts at the police station, and it was Jonny who had convinced Spencer to paint the outside roof of Hollis College in the middle of the night. Spencer had wanted to fix her strained relationship with Toby, but then Jonny had kissed her, complicating things further.

But maybe Jonny never really cared about her. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to take Alison down, to get revenge for all the horrible things she had done in the past, including her friends. It was Jonny, too, who persuaded me that we steal the painting from that art museum in Colorado, telling me that it would be worth the money. And the way he'd been able to pull off calling in an anonymous tip to the police without being traced, alerting them to where I was. Only somebody like A could do that and get away with it. Jonny had done it so easily, almost like it was no big deal.

The only way he could've known about Ali and her friends was if he'd secretly been working with A all along. It made perfect sense. He'd been watching the girls for years from his secret involvement with the N.A.T. Club, and he had all the inside information on them. Charles could have made a deal with Jonny to tell him everything he knew in exchange for the sweet revenge Jonny had always wanted: destroying Alison DiLaurentis. Maybe Charles had reached out to Jonny somehow and told him his whole evil scheme. And since Jonny hated Alison so much, he'd been more than happy to go along with it. That would explain how Jonny knew to come to Rosewood after Ali was arrested for 'killing' Mona. Or why he had pushed Spencer into vandalizing Hollis. Jonny might have been planning to make Spencer trust him, break down her walls the way he did to me. And then when she finally did, he told the police about the mural. And since Spencer had a record of being arrested for murder, the rest would easily fall into place.

He'd had been a witness to so many of our spontaneous, reckless nights together. Everything Jonny and I had done came rushing back into my mind, as fast and uncontrollable as an uncorked champagne bottle fizzing over the top. Jonny had gone inside a convenient store, distracting the store clerk while I stole food for us, knowing there were security cameras and I would get caught. Jonny had been waiting for me in the woods the night he tried to kill me, knowing that I was rushing back to Rosewood to warn Alison about his connections to A and the infamous N.A.T. Club, nearly taking my life and ruining any chance of protecting her.

Sweat began to gather at the back of my neck and my skin turned ice-cold. What if Jonny was doing Charles bidding…and was really planning to kill me instead?

My knees buckled. _It was never going to end, was it?_

I blinked away the tears that came to my eyes, and my stomach knotted. I felt so lost and alone. I didn't know what was real anymore and what wasn't.

Just then, the bushes across from Ali rustled. I held my breath.

"Okay, Jess, now," Payton hissed. His arm tensed as he pulled back the bow, getting ready to free the arrow.

Alison crawled up closer from behind the bushes, her hand clenched over a shiny, sharp blade. Shivers crawled up my back like spiders at seeing her with a knife; Alison had never been comfortable with weapons.

My fingers tightened over the dagger. Then I let out a loud, piercing scream that tore from my throat. My limbs ached to move, but I knew if I did, we'd have no way of catching Jonny and we'd lose our chance. The bushes began to shake, growing more and more frantic.

After a few seconds, the trees parted. I balled my hands into fists and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I found myself looking into a pair of piercing blue eyes. Jonny stood directly in the path, a smug smile on his face. He was dressed in a casual button-down shirt and jeans, but he had on a cropped jean jacket-hoodie to conceal his eyes. Anger boiled through me as I looked over his prominent cheekbones and messy dark brown hair, remembering the way he had used me, and now Spencer.

"Hello, Jess," he sneered gleefully.

"Jonny." I could barely form the words; my mouth had turned dry.

Suddenly, all of my fears came rolling back in. Panic shot through me like a hurricane, hitting me with its full force. I fought back the temptation to glance over at Payton hiding behind the tree.

Jonny smiled, but it wasn't pleasant. "I knew you couldn't stay hidden for long."

Nerves rippled through my stomach. "Cut the crap, Jonny, and tell me what you're really doing here."

Jonny caught my gaze and slowly closed the short distance between us until his face was just inches from mine. He leaned in to whisper in my ear, his hot breath brushing against my cheek. It smelled like he'd been drinking.

"I know your friends are the ones who left me that message," he said in a low, gruff voice. "And if you know what's best for you, you'll hand over my journal."

I swallowed hard and the muscles in my stomach tightened, feeling as though my entire body was on fire. I knew instantly what journal Jonny was talking about–the one recording everything I was doing when he had been stalking me for his N.A.T. Club activities. The last time I'd seen it was after I had stolen it from him to turn him into the police for what he'd done. The only other person who could've had it was CeCe, and if she had it, that had to mean she was planning something big against him. And there was no way I was giving up that information. All I could do was stand there, helpless and weak.

"You had to know I would follow you here," Jonny continued. My nose pressed into the fabric of his jacket as he crushed me against him. Disgust filled my mouth with bile and my stomach turned over.

"I don't have it," I insisted.

I tried jerking away from him, but Jonny grabbed me roughly by the shoulders, his eyes blazing and intense. "Don't lie to me!"

"Don't touch me!" I shoved him forcefully off of me.

The blade of the dagger pressed into my palm, and a searing pain split into my skin. I could smell blood as the dark liquid dripped down my hand and onto the ground. I tried to keep my composure, afraid Jonny would see the knife.

Jonny smiled, like this was supposed to be funny. "I'm not leaving until I get that journal. You're just as guilty as I am."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not the one who's wanted for theft and assault," I said in the strongest voice I could find. "Stay away from me! And stay away from Spencer."

Jonny cackled. "You mean that slut? She was just a means to an end."

I blinked at him in disbelief. But as he reached for my arm, a green arrow flew through the air with lightening speed towards Jonny, cutting across his hand.

Jonny flinched from the impact and sprung away from me. Payton moved out of the shadows with the bow and arrow still clutched in his hand as a weapon, bowstring pulled back and ready to aim. Jonny stared at him with wide, stunned eyes.

"Touch her again, and the next one goes for your eye!" Payton threatened.

But Jonny just smirked. "What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

Payton's hold on the bow tightened. "I could have the Rosewood PD here in three minutes."

"In half that time, I will already be gone," Jonny challenged.

Payton quickly pulled back the bowstring and a glowing green tranquilizer arrow raced at Jonny, the sharp arrowhead penetrating his flesh and piercing his leg. Jonny fell backward with a strangled cry. Blood spewed out from the cut where Payton had just shot him.

"Alison!" Payton shouted. "Now!"

Using the blow as a distraction, Ali jumped out from behind the bushes and grabbed Jonny's wrists, twisting his arms behind his back and pinning them there while she tied his hands with a piece of thick rope. But then Jonny recoiled, making Ali stumble back, and drove his elbow into her face. She fell to the ground, her body landing limp on a patch of moss and leaves. Blood gushed out from her forehead of the wound.

Murderous anger emerged in Payton's eyes. He lunged towards Jonny, using the strength of his recurve bow to smack him hard in the ribs, then countered a violent kick to his gut. Payton slammed him into one of the trees and grabbed another tranquilizer arrow, stabbing him in the stomach. Jonny screamed in horrified pain.

Ali lifted her head slightly. "Payton?" she said weakly.

"I got it," Payton assured her, tying the rope around Jonny's middle in a tight knot.

Jonny sat slumped against the tree, eyes closed, looking disoriented. A streak of light cut across the bark of the trees. I turned in the direction of where it was coming from and gasped.

A dark figure cloaked underneath a hoodie walked slowly towards me in a predatory gait, knife in hand. From his broad shoulders and big hands, it wasn't hard to distinguish that this _A_ serving as one of Charles' minions was a guy. He was stressed strictly in black, even his black boots, and had a truly menacing vibe.

Payton saw him, too, and yelled to me. "Jess, run!"

My eyes darted back to Ali's limp body on the ground. "Not without Ali!"

"I'll take care of her. _Go!_ "

I watched Payton make his way over to Ali, tending to her, before racing out through the trees. The only thing I paid attention to was the dark forest in front of me and the ground beneath my feet as I ran. I could hear the Aminion just behind me, his footsteps pounding against the ground. I couldn't see much in the dark, and I had to hurry back to my car.

I made a sharp turn through one of the forest trails and raced down the path, jumping over a fallen tree in the process. The trail was a three-mile loop that wound behind Charles' old mansion. If I cut across from the east side of the house, I could outrun A and make it to my car just in time to make a quick getaway.

My feet sank into the softer pockets of fallen leaves, but I kept running. As I neared the mansion, I stumbled down a small hill, but caught onto a vine that was twisted loosely around the bark of a thick, tall tree, keeping my balance.

I could see my car now, the red paint gleaming against the pale moonlight a few feet away from where I stood. I flew past the ivy-covered mansion and carried my feet as fast as I could towards the familiar red Honda Civic. Once I made it there, I threw myself into the front seat and jammed my key into the ignition, and sped off into the empty road, my heart racing.

I didn't satisfy the temptation to look back over my shoulder, too terrified to see what I would find if I did. With any luck, I would be out of Rosewood before Charles would even notice I was gone.

I'd done what I came to do. It was over.

I almost made it to the dark streets before passing by the tree-lined road of Alison's house, across the street from the Cavanaugh's and next door to Spencer's two-story colonial Georgian home. As I drove past the Victorian house, I looked up towards one of the bedroom windows.

I saw him there briefly, his buttery blonde hair shining in the glass window. I stared at the planes of his face, at his perfect full, pink lips, his vividly deep blue eyes, and his golden tousled hair. I could only gaze for so long before tears filled my eyes. I didn't think I could bring myself to say goodbye to Jason, and so I drove directly to the end of town heading toward my next destination: Chicago.

 _Get over it,_ I told myself, trying not to cry. And besides, now that I knew Jonny would soon be behind bars, I knew Ali was safe. I could finally get some sleep tonight.

I caught movement on the side of the country road and noticed something–or someone–moving within the shadows of the trees. I squinted and turned on the beam of my headlights, but there was nothing there. All I could see was darkness within the edge of the gloomy forest.

 _It's just your imagination_.

As I chided myself for being so stupid and paranoid, a wolf appeared in the middle of the road.

With a gasp, I quickly twisted the wheel and stomped on the brake. The wheels screeched against the pavement, spinning out of control. Then I heard a giant _thud_ as the car skidded to the side of the road and crashed headfirst into a big blue sign that said, YOU'RE NOW LEAVING THE CITY OF ROSEWOOD. It whipped me to the side, jerking my head hard against the glass of the car window with a painful bang. Slowly, the numbness subsided, replacing it with an aching, dizziness in my head.

The last thing I saw before collapsing into unconsciousness was the wolf, staring at me with impossibly beautiful golden yellow eyes, his white fur as dazzling as snow. He stood as still as a statue, unblinking, casually watching me. Those eyes flecked brilliantly and intelligently with every shade of gold and hazel, reminding me of the golden woods in Maryland where Ali and I used to go

And then the world faded to black.

Spencer

That Tuesday night, after picking up some food for the loft, I pulled up to the side of my parent's gated private drive. The sun had sunk behind the clouds, darkening the sky with an eerie gloom. With Toby in Harrisburg for the next few days, I wanted to be able to have all the proper ingredients to cook for myself while he was away, including saltine crackers for my morning sickness.

As I grabbed my oversize brown leather purse and stepped out of the car, I noticed that someone was walking up to the front of the DiLaurentis' house. The porch light cast a yellow glow across a dark figure, revealing it to be Mona. She was carrying something white and square in her hand. She opened up the mailbox at the end of Alison's yard, slid in the envelope, and carefully closed it again. Frowning, I walked down the gravel drive, wondering what Mona was doing.

"Mona?" I called into the dark. "Is that you?"

"Hi." Mona shoved her hands into the pockets of her black trench coat and smiled.

"Hi," I said back. "What are you doing?"

"It's a card for Alison," Mona admitted. "I know it's totally retro, but emails can be deleted and she would never take my calls, so…" She crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at the ground awkwardly.

I nodded in understanding, remembering what Hanna had said at school about Mona being afraid of Alison. After the faked murder incident, the cops had been questioning Mona intensely, pressing her for information about why she would try to frame her death on Ali. But since she had been committed to Radley Sanitarium and was one of A's victims that had been tortured in the creepy Dollhouse, the police and the DA investigating the case decided to give her immunity for arrest.

"You look great, Spencer," Mona complimented. "Much better than the last time I saw you."

I cocked my head. "I was on a hospital gurney."

"Yeah, me too, but you looked more graceful being rolled." Mona gave me a playful smile.

My cheeks warmed, flattered. I inspected Mona for a second, thinking about my dream from the other night.

"Mona," I started, "can I ask you something?"

She nodded, a sincere expression on her face.

"You were in that Dollhouse longer than any of us," I went on. "So do you think that it's possible, or could there be a chance, that there was another girl that was trapped down there? Not Sara Harvey, but a–a younger girl, maybe eleven or twelve."

"Why are you asking me this?" Mona asked.

"I–I–I have this image in my head of a young girl," I stammered. "She looks a lot like a young Alison and she's guiding me towards this creepy room with these rusted bathtubs."

Mona looked at me gently. "I think that everyone that was trapped in that place escaped, Spencer."

"Okay, but what about that room?" I asked frantically. "Have you ever seen it? It's got a couple of drains on the floor and the walls are tiled, there's broken furniture everywhere, and God knows what horrible things happened down there."

"No. I haven't seen it, but it sounds terrifying."

"It is," I said ruefully. "Maybe it doesn't exist. I just…I felt like I had been in there before."

"I think it must live in your head," Mona offered.

I pressed my lips together grimly. "Right." But a smidge of uneasiness passed through me, something I couldn't shake.

After a beat, my eyes flickered back to Mona. "Goodnight."

Mona nodded. "Goodnight," she repeated.

I turned back towards the drive, despite my nerves and confusion, and pushed through the back gate. I slipped inside the back yard, hoping the cloak of darkness would be enough to conceal me away from my mother. Not shortly after I'd left the grocery store did I realize that I'd left my laptop inside the family's barn-renovated loft. And there was no way I was talking to my mom after our conversation this morning.

I trudged onto the dewy grass. It was so dark outside that I could barely see my feet below me. I tried counting the number of footsteps to the barn to calm my nerves, when my foot hit against something hard.

Then I looked down. Something shiny lay nestled in the grass in between the border that separated my house from Ali's, partially covered by some dirt as though someone had tried to bury it. I reached down and picked up a silver palm-sized video camera. It was scratched up and battered from use. I turned it over, and a small green light came on, indicating there was still some battery left. I pressed the ON button and the camera flickered to life.

Immediately, a clip opened onto the small screen with a fumbling shot of an unfamiliar dock stretching over a deep blue lake. "Ali, what are you doing with my camera?" a boy's voice said offscreen. The handheld camera panned to a boy with honey-blonde hair and honest blue eyes. He was wearing only red swimming trunks, exposing his naked chest and the muscles in his stomach.

"I'm making a movie," I heard Ali say teasingly. A strange sensation slithered down my spine. From the looks of it, it seemed the two of them were old friends. But then why didn't Ali tell me or the other girls about him?

The camera swung to an attractive brunette with flawless olive-colored skin, who had on a turquoise bikini. Her long dark hair fell down her shoulders prettily, and the corners of her bow-shaped lips were turned up slightly in amusement. She met the camera with brown doe eyes. "Seriously, Ali, put it down." The fair-haired boy was looking at the girl longingly as she spoke, and I wondered if she noticed.

"Make me!" Ali giggled. The camera remained fixed on the girl. She moved closer into the frame, grinning, while she chased Ali around the lake. Then the picture went momentarily fuzzy. When the image reappeared back on the screen, the camera was tilted over, fallen on the ground. I could still see a sideways shot of a younger-looking Ali and the girl running along the length of the sand surrounding the water.

The camera showed the boy's hands reaching down and picking up the camera, chasing after them.

"Jess!" Ali cried. Her face appeared on-screen again and the girl known as, Jess, had her arms around Ali's waist in a playful fight.

Jess squealed as Ali squirmed away, staggering backwards slightly, the both of them looking alive and carefree. The clip ended.

My stomach swirled. We all knew Ali liked keeping secrets, but I didn't imagine it as anything like this. How could Ali have another life that we didn't even know about? What else was she hiding?

Without thinking about it, I palmed the digital camera and slipped it inside my bag. When I reached the barn, I was relieved to find that all the windows were darkened and empty. No one was inside. I quietly pushed open the door, sneaking in.

My silver laptop was on the kitchen island where I had last left it, gleaming from the small light of the moon outside. I hurried up to the computer and grabbed it. Then I turned for the door and tiptoed across the lawn, making sure no one saw me as I ran back to my car.

When I got to the loft, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them into all the kitchen's overhead cabinets. The place was silent. That's when something red caught my eye. On the grey marble-topped counter was a tall purple vase filled with over a dozen, long-stemmed red roses. Nestled in between two of the roses was a small envelope with my name written across the front. Smiling, I opened it and read the card. I read Toby's familiar handwriting:

 _I'll miss you every second while I'm gone. I love you._

I pressed my nose to the roses, inhaling the lovely, floral scent. My eyes started to grow heavy sleepily and I thought of heading to bed, but then I remembered Toby wouldn't be there with me, and agony ripped through me once again. The first night we were living together and he wasn't going to be here.

I dragged myself up the flight of stairs miserably to Toby's–now our–bedroom. I put my bag away in the closet and looked around. All my books were arranged by subject on the shelves, photos of Toby and I hung on the walls, my lavender-lined velvet jewelry box now sat on top of the dresser along with a glass vase of lovely lilacs, and my desk was pushed up against the wall by the window. I stared at the neatly made bed and noticed my favorite pale pink flowery sheets were folded underneath the thick creamy toile duvet comforter from my old bedroom, and the pillows were fluffed and toppled over one another symmetrically. The rest of my stuff was in boxes, still packed up and ready to be put away. I needed everything organized, but I was too tired to move.

I changed into one of Toby's oversize T-shirts and blue plaid boxers and flipped off the light. When I collapsed against the soft pillows with a sigh, I felt something velvet and soft lying beneath me. I sat up, noting a long red blanket was laid out on my side of the bed. The words _Toby C_ were stitched in the upper right corner. Realizing Toby must have left it for me to sleep in, my heart lifted.

Throughout the night, the constant wave of nausea clenching my stomach and the burning in my throat wouldn't let me sleep. I found myself lurching over the toilet in the middle of the night several times, heaving and gaging, until the pain finally stopped. The bed felt so big and empty without Toby. I pulled the velvet blanket over my head, but it didn't stop my hormones from keeping me up.

My body felt hot and buzzy, like I was on vibrate for something. And I was so dry, it felt as though my skin was being stretched out from the lack of intimacy. I needed some loving from Toby. I _needed_ it.

I touched the black and white floral covers, remembering when Toby and I had made love for the very first time in them. I recalled the way his skin had felt on mine the first time that we touched, sinning together in these very sheets. His lips caressing every inch of my skin before he gently melted into me.

Closing my eyes, I pulled my knees up without any control of my own, spreading my legs far apart. Then I slid my hand inside the boxers and pushed my fingers gently inside. My lips parted as I pictured what Toby would do to me, how he would touch me…

I moaned. "Oh, Toby."

I reached in further and worked faster, harder. When I dug in deeper, I slipped Toby's boxers off my thighs, panting heavily. It felt so good, but I wanted his lips there. I wanted Toby to taste me.

I lifted up my shirt and moved my hands up to my bare breasts, touching them the way Toby would. Moaning, I cupped my breasts and began to stroke them in my hands, rubbing and groping them excitedly.

My pelvis throbbed intensely. I needed Toby so badly.

I inserted both fingers back inside me and thrusted my hips rapidly like a dog in heat, writhing against the bed in pleasure. "Toby!" I screamed. "Tobbbbyyyyyy!"

I was so turned on that I could feel myself growing wet. I pulled my fingers out and trailed my hand over my pelvis, slowly groping it. "Toby, please!" I cried.

I pushed my fingers back in again, jerking hard. I groaned and moved faster against the bed, imagining Toby was on top of me and spreading me with the length of him, loving me. How satisfying he would feel inside me. My hips jerked forward wildly, caught up in the pleasure.

"Oh, god!" I moved my fingers in further, growing wetter as I pushed and thrusted in steady strokes.

"I want you so much," I moaned.

Oh, I needed him. I grunted his name in satisfaction until I exploded into the most wonderful orgasm, and then felt the familiar sweet release.

In the morning when I awoke, I padded down to the kitchen for some comfort food, surprised by how hungry I was. I searched the fridge for the ingredients of scrambled eggs and cooked them in a pan on the stove. It smelled so good that I started eating it right out of the pan before they were even done. It burned my tongue, but I was too hungry to care. By the time it was cool enough for me to eat, I scarfed it down within mere minutes and swallowed it down with some cherry tart juice to calm my anxiety.

When I picked up Hanna to break into Radley like we'd planned yesterday, she was unusually quiet. I assumed it had something to do with Caleb, but I didn't press her. Mona was also supposed to meet us there and help us find the room where Radley kept records of their previous patients so we could find out what really happened to Charles.

I drove along a wide, back road a few miles outside of Rosewood and made a left turn. I pulled up to Radley Sanitarium from the back, a four-story high massive old stone building with overgrown ivy twisting along the long, rectangular windows. A gothic, wrought iron security gate enclosed the front entrances of the building, and signs on the bars announced the mental hospital was off limits. Radley was built in 1897 as an orphanage, but eventually they converted it into a safe haven for teenagers and young children. I scoffed at the irony. Radley was anything but _safe_ , just a bunch of lunatics like me who couldn't handle the real world.

Since all the entrances in the front were blocked, Hanna and I had to pick the lock on the back door to get in. There was no sign of Mona anywhere, and my nausea started to roll in thunderously from nerves.

The inside was cold and smelled of wet, pungent mold and rotting meat. After being admitted into Radley Sanitarium for my depression, I was once again reminded of how much I hated this place and the pain I'd suffered over losing Toby.

A long, dark hallway stretched in front of us covered in spiderwebs, and the only sound was an annoying dripping sound coming from the pipes. Hanna and I beamed our flashlights along the walls as we walked down the dank basement, stopping at each door to jiggle the knobs, but every one of them was locked. Red paint was painted on the stone-brick walls with the name, CARISSIMI GROUP.

"We're not leaving here until we find something about Charles," I insisted fiercely.

Hanna scrunched up her nose. "God, what did they keep down here? Or should I say who?"

We rounded the corner and stopped in front of a faded grey wooden door, where the paint was peeling off. Hanna tried turning the brass handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"Patient records," I informed her. "Only the staff was allowed in the basement, not us."

"I guarantee Mona's been down here," Hanna added.

"Yeah, where is she?" I asked curiously. "I thought she was supposed to be our tour guide." I roamed my flashlight over several doors lining the walls.

"She wanted to come, but her mom's attached at the hip," she explained. "They, like, shower together."

I rolled my eyes. A large portrait of color caught my eye and I froze. Hanging from the wall was a framed painting of a young girl sitting at a school desk with a huge grin on her face, and she was holding a pencil in her hand. She looked young, maybe eleven or twelve, and her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. As I looked closer, a sense of déjà vu washed over me. I remembered my nightmare with the dancing girl in the bathroom.

I stared at the portrait in stunned silence, struck with the memory of the girl's face. It was so clear now. What if she was the person that I had hurt at the Dollhouse? I felt sickened from the thought.

"God, why are all these doors locked?" I heard Hanna say, but I couldn't answer. I couldn't even force myself to move.

Hanna came to an abrupt halt beside me in front of the painting when she noticed my stiff composure. "Spence, what's wrong?" Her eyes glanced between me and the painting.

I shook my head slowly. "Nothing."

I looked at the walls of doors to the left and right, trying to distract myself from the memory. After my dream, there was no doubt that I would have nightmares.

Hanna glanced down the hall. A small strip of faded light shone from underneath an opened door. "Wait, that door's open."

Tentatively, I followed her through the metal door. The room was small and dark, with a mess of broken furniture, shelves with crammed appliances, folders, and file boxes.

I stepped in further and shone my flashlight across the room. More images of my dream flashed across my mind. The little girl dancing…the rusted bath tubs…

My heart pounded. That memory. I instantly knew I had been here before, during my time at Radley.

"That's how I know this place," I realized.

Hanna turned to me. "What?"

"It was in Radley, not the Dollhouse. I've been here before."

Hanna walked to the filing boxes on the shelf and started digging through them, looking for Charles' patient file.

"I know this room," I continued.

"Well, then why am I the only one doing anything?" Hanna snapped. She yanked at one of the boxes to pull it down. "Can you help me? This is heavy."

Something on the shelf shifted, and a white ceramic kidney dish and bed pan toppled to the floor with a clang.

Hanna glared at me accusingly. "Thanks." Sarcasm dripped in her voice.

I looked at her blankly and threw my hands up, lost.

She let out a long sigh. "Forget it."

I reached up to pull a filing box off from the shelf and set it down on a nearby creaky old table. We were all alone, with no one coming down to bother us. Manila folders containing papers inside revealed patient files from Radley, dating all the way back to the 80s. The building was abandoned, and if the files were alphabetized, it would be easy finding Charles'.

I thumbed through the tabs on the folders, looking for the ones labeled within the Ds. As I reached the Cs, my eyes caught the name, "Clarke, Jess." The image from the video I'd seen of the girl fluttered through my mind. The folder was about an inch thick.

I held the file in my hands for a moment. Did I really need to open it? Did I really need to know?

I bit my lip. But what if this girl had something to do with A? The temptation was too great to resist, so I opened the file.

The first few pages were just basic documents of her health records, but nothing in particular stood out. But after flipping through the next few pages, something strange appeared in one of the records. Someone named William Clarke had filed a restraining order against a man for supposedly harassing his daughter, but there was no mention of Jess stating anywhere in the file that the stranger had indeed been stalking her. And, last but not least, the patient info form said William's DNA, Jess' father, didn't match his daughter's. Jess was written as a B positive, while William was a O negative.

I looked over the names in the court record and my jaw dropped to the floor. How was that possible? I double-checked it three times just to make sure.

Hanna threw a packet of papers aside, frustrated. "Un-friggin'-believable. Radley has files on patients who've been dead since the Stone Age, but nothing from six stupid years ago?"

But I barely heard her. I fumbled for Jess' birth certificate and pulled it out on top, reading the information in the record describing the biological parents. Only the mother had signed for the father's signature. My eyes fell on one singular name: _Gabriel Holbrook._

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. _Gabriel Holbrook?_ The detective from the Pennsylvania State Police who was investigating Bethany Young's murder. _What the hell?_

Slowly, I put more of the pieces together. The DNA on Jess' patient info form didn't match the one from her dad, and Detective Holbrook had mysteriously left town a month after Alison's arrest. And all of us wondered if there was something Holbrook was hiding. There was more to the story. Maybe this was his big secret–that Jess was his daughter. Ali must have found out somehow and used it against him, so he agreed to help botch the investigation of Bethany Young's murder to clear her name.

While Hanna continued to rummage through the box of files, I discreetly slid the folder underneath the array of scattered papers on the table. I wasn't ready to show it to her yet.

I went back to the box I was working on and searched for the file folders marked in the Ds, stopping when I found one called, _C. DiLaurentis._

"Stop," I told Hanna, pulling out the file. "I found it. C. DiLaurentis. I got it."

I opened the folder and paged through the documents. Then I spied a work order form dated from six years ago, explaining an incident involving the death of one of their patients…Charles DiLaurentis. I stood motionless for a few seconds. Radley had sent the funds to a company called the Carassimi Group. According to the form, a courier had been asked to deliver Charles' organs to a local hospital for donation.

"What's it say?" Hanna asked. When I didn't answer, she pressed for more. "Spencer, talk to me. Is he dead or not?"

"Yeah, he's dead," I finally said.

Hanna leaned over the page. "What am I looking at?"

"It's a work order. The courier who transported his organs."

She narrowed her eyes. "So what? That doesn't mean squat."

My voice rose up a couple pitches. "Hanna, you can't donate your heart, liver, and both kidneys and still play Boggle in the Radley rec room, he's dead." My fingers flipped through the pages, trying to look for any valuable information that could tell us who Charles was in contact with, but the only thing I could find were past medical files about his mental condition.

"Well, someone is pretending to be him, so who is it?" Hanna demanded. "Who is Charles?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "This is just a bunch of medical files."

Hanna clomped over to a metal hospital cart filled with stacks of more filing boxes and dug through them. A second later, I heard a splashing sound coming from one of the bath tubs. I spun around and saw a folder of files floating around in the murky, stagnated water that had tipped over from the cart.

"What are you doing?" I yelled.

Hanna wordlessly walked around to the end of the tub and let out a loud gasp. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

I looked over, and suddenly, I gasped too. The outline of a human kneecap loomed from underneath the water.

"Oh my god," Hanna whispered. "Is that a kneecap?"

"Don't touch it," I warned, my heart thudding hyperactively.

"Why would I touch it?" she cried.

I glanced towards the door and spotted a long silver pole with two small hooks at the end, and ran to grab it.

"Spencer, where are you going?" Hanna shrieked. "If you leave me along here, I–"

"Just shut up," I said. "I'm just getting something to fish it out."

"Fish it out? I don't wanna see what it's connected to." Her eyes turned glassy with tears.

I held the pole by the handle and carefully dipped it into the dark water, feeling around for whatever was lying at the bottom. Up close, the odor of mold and bacteria swirling around filled my nose. A painful ache twisted in my stomach from the awful scent, and I was overcome with the sudden urge to vomit.

"Spencer," Hanna pleaded. "Spencer, stop. Please stop."

Just then, a life-like doll's face bobbed up to the surface. Its eyes were closed and their opened, plastic mouth had been washed away of color, giving the practice dummy's lips a pinkish-purple look. A scream tore out of Hanna's throat.

"Oh my god, breathe," I assured her irritably. "Breathe, it's a doll."

Hanna's hand flew to her throat, alarmed. "What?"

My irritation flared. "It's a Resusci Anne."

"Well, w–w–what–what is that?" Hanna stammered. "Like a–a blowup thingy?"

"No, you blow into it," I replied. "They use it to teach CPR."

Hanna put a hand to her forehead, breathing heavily. A hard, pounding sound reverberated throughout the building, making both of us jump. It sounded like a wild animal was making its way into one of the vents.

"What was that?" Fear flickered in Hanna's eyes, as if whatever animal had made its home here would jump out at any moment.

"It's probably something you woke out of hibernation with your screaming," I remarked flatly.

I held my breath as I pulled out the drenched papers from the water, trying my hardest not to breathe in the strong smell. I brought them over to the table and continued to search through the documents, scanning for the names of anyone who might have known Charles. Maybe at Radley, where he'd been treated. Someone could have met him while they were admitted and bonded instantly with him. And maybe that someone knew what Charles was planning, or who was really behind torturing us in the Dollhouse.

"Spencer, come on," Hanna urged. "Like, could we just go? I don't need any more proof he's dead."

I gave her a long, hard look. "We knew that already, but we don't know who Charles was close to, who he hung out with."

"We're never gonna know that," she exclaimed. "Radley doesn't put out a yearbook. Let's go."

Just then, a rattling sound whined from somewhere nearby, followed by a loud _crash_ , like glass shattering. Like someone was trying to break in.

"Okay, that was definitely not an animal," Hanna said nervously, and turned for the door. "I'm leaving here now."

I grabbed Jess and Charles' file folders and ran after her down the hall. Hanna and I hurried down the hallway, but then we heard the rattling noise again, louder this time. We froze dead in our tracks, and I held my breath. Suddenly, the noise stopped.

Hanna and I exchanged terrified glances with each other, then she took the folders out from under my arm while I reached for a metal arm crutch that stood up against the red-brick wall. I snuck in behind her and pointed the thicker part of the crutch in my hand, ready to fight whoever was inside. Slowly, Hanna swung open the door to the basement's supply room. A figure emerged in the dark room, jumping back at the sound of the door creaking open. When I saw Mona's face, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, instantly feeling dizzy.

Mona hugged a thick manila file folder against her chest, and her honey-brown eyes widened in fright. Behind her, several broken hospital wheelchairs toppled over one another.

"What the hell, Mona?" Hanna yelled.

"Have you been down here the whole time?" I asked at the same time. "Was that you?"

Mona's eyes flickered to the floor guiltily, confirming my suspicions.

"Answer us!" I said in a louder, stronger voice.

"Just let me go," Mona pleaded. "Please, I'll explain later.

"No, you're gonna explain right now." I put down the crutch and snagged the folder out of her hands.

"Why were you following us?" Hanna demanded.

"She didn't want us to find this," I said, opening up the file.

"Just give it back to me, okay?" Mona's voice grew urgent. "This doesn't have anything to do with you guys."

I looked through the documents. Most of them were files of medical records with a bunch of scribbled doctor's notes.

"Why were you stealing your file, Mona?" Hanna asked her.

I stopped at a page of a patient form for Radley, and my heart dropped to my feet. At the top of the form someone had handwritten, _Lesli Stone_ , as a patient. I checked the date from when it was first filed. It read: June 20, three years ago.

"She wasn't." I looked up from the paper at Mona. "She was stealing Lesli Stone's."

"Wait, what?" Hana shrieked. "Lesli was a patient here, too?"

"Yes, and she doesn't want it to go public," Mona answered.

I stared at her, the realization dawning on me. "Is that how you met her?"

Mona stared back at us with a worried, anxious expression on her face, but she didn't answer.

"Lesli Stone was in Radley," Hanna said in a more confident voice. "When?"

I glanced down at the file. "Judging from this, a long time. Long enough to know Mona _and_ Charles."

An icy sensation chilled my bones. Hanna turned to me, and we each exchanged a spooked glance. I knew without having to ask what she was thinking.

Lesli was A.

An hour later, I sat at the kitchen island of the Marin's massive white Georgian house with Aria, Hanna, and Emily. A black and white photo negative strip lay in front of us that Aria had stolen from her friend, Clark, another photographer, when they'd taken pictures together earlier at the junkyard. After Hanna and I confronted Mona at Radley about Lesli, Aria had sent us both urgent texts, telling us she thought Clark might have caught a photo of A. She wanted to look at the photo in detail, so she'd asked Hanna, Emily and I to meet her at Hanna's.

Now, Emily leaned over and zoomed into the photo with a small focusing magnifier stand, examining it close-up. A familiar figure lurked in the background of an appliances junkyard, their dark hood pulled tight around their face, and a full chest suggested that the person was a girl. My stomach turned over. _A_.

I returned to the page from Lesli's file that we'd taken from Mona, skimming over the rest of the details explaining her admittance to Radley. I gazed at some of the information talking about her stay there, and noticed the name of Lesli's roommate that she'd been assigned to. Bethany Young, the former Radley patient who had been murdered after escaping the facility.

Aria stared at us with wide, intense eyes. "Am I crazy? That's a girl, right?"

"That's a bust and it's Lesli Stone's," Hanna said.

Aria looked at her disbelievingly. "Hanna, stop. We barely know anything about that girl. I mean, taking us down in a courtroom is not the same as taking us down to that bunker."

"Aria's right," Emily agreed. "I mean, why? Why would she torture us?"

"Because she's unstable, that's why," Hanna reasoned. "That girl's got bigger mood swings than that Captain Hook ride at Hersey Park."

"And you forgot to mention that she once shared a room at Radley with Bethany Young," I added.

"What?" Emily and Aria said in unison. Hanna took the page from me.

"They were roommates and probably pretty close," I said, recalling the horrible event. "Lesli must think that we helped Ali kill Bethany Young that night and then dumped her body in that pit."

"Your sister did that," Emily reminded me.

"No," I disagreed. "Melissa just…buried her alive. We still have no idea who bashed her over the head and Lesli doesn't know any of it. She probably thinks that Alison did the deed and we helped her get rid of the body."

"But why hide behind Charles's name?" Aria wondered.

"Maybe she was just as close to Charles as she was to Bethany. It all comes back to Charles."

"So was Mona covering for Lesli?" Emily questioned. "I mean, by stealing her file?"

"Mona said she was doing it to repair their friendship," Hanna jumped in. "Lesli's got her fooled, too."

"Or not," I said doubtfully.

"What about Sara?" Emily pointed out. "I mean, why would Lesli Stone go after a complete stranger?"

"It was probably just a rehearsal, Em." The wheels in my head started to turn. "Until she could get her hands on the real Alison."

Everyone looked around with scared, nervous eyes. After a few long seconds, Aria spoke next.

"Okay, so what do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, we know where she lives," I said.

Hanna nodded. "I say we catch her in the act."

Emily stared at her. "How?"

I glanced at the folder containing Jess' file folder. I hadn't shown the contents to the girls yet, or told them about Ali's strange connection to a girl neither of us had ever seen before. I took a deep breath, deciding there was no better time than now to tell them.

I pulled out the folder from underneath the pile of papers and showed it to them. "I found this while Hanna and I were at Radley," I admitted quietly. "There was a video of this girl with Ali from an old digital camera buried behind Alison's house. I think they knew each other, and then I found her file."

Hanna stared at me. "What? Why didn't you say anything?"

Emily gasped. Aria looked confused. Hanna snatched the file from my hands and tore through it. "Who is she?"

She finally found the piece of thick, creamy paper with Jess' personal information–her birth date, the hospital where she was born at, and her biological parents. "Jess Clarke," she read. Hanna stared at it and frowned, and then her eyes widened.

Aria frowned. "Hanna, what is it?"

Hanna remained speechless for a long time, her hand clapped to her mouth. "It says here that Gabriel Holbrook is her father."

Emily gaped at her. "What?"

"Let me see." Aria peered over Hanna's shoulder, reading below the birth date that proclaimed Gabriel Holbrook as the father.

"Whoever Jess is, she's connected to Alison and to Holbrook," I said.

A taut, serious expression came over Emily's face. "Does Ali know?"

"I don't think Ali would have enlisted his help to clear her name from Bethany's murder if she knew he was Jess' biological birth father."

"He was looking for Jess," Hanna concluded.

"And Ali was part of that trail," Emily said a second after.

"We still don't know anything about her," Aria added. "She could be the one who put us in that Dollhouse. She could be Charles."

A frightening, eerie feeling fell over the room. For a while, nobody said anything.

I looked out the window onto the tranquil, empty street. The clouds had shifted, and it was pitch-black outside. I stared at the trees and the forest beyond them, wondering what other secrets were lurking there. Could Holbrook really be Jess' dad?

Before I could ponder it any longer, Hanna's front door opened, and Alison strode into the kitchen in a short-sleeved, cropped black top over a flowy white underlay top and dark blue jeans. A white bandage was stuck to her forehead.

She looked from one girl to the other. "I got your text. What's going on?"

Hanna crossed her arms over her chest. "You tell us."

"Who's Jess?" I asked her.

Alison's face drained of color. "H–how do you know about her?"

"Spencer found her file while we were at Radley," Hanna informed her. "Holbrook is her dad."

Ali looked confused. "What?"

Emily looked at Alison. "Who is she?"

Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, making us all jump. "Who would be here ten o'clock at night?" Aria mused.

Ali started for the door, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw who was on the other side of the side-paneled glass. "Josh," she breathed.

A blue-eyed beautiful boy who looked to be about eighteen walked in. Shimmers of gold fell in waves around his angular face and he had a full, tender mouth. He was tall and lean with visible muscles, but there was something innocent and genuine about his chiseled jaw and high cheekbones. Instantly, my heart hammered against my chest when I realized he was the boy from the video.

Josh gave Ali a crooked smile that I was sure made most girls fall to their knees. "Hey, Ali Cat." He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

When they pulled out of the hug, Ali met his eyes directly. "What are you doing here?"

"I dropped by your house and your dad told me you'd be here." Josh's expression turned somber. "Jess is missing."

Ali paled. "Missing?" she squeaked.

Josh nodded, looking concerned. "Yeah. She disappeared about a week ago. I tried calling her, but all I get is radio silence. Have you seen her?"

Ali shook her head, but I thought I saw a trace of dishonesty behind her eyes. "No."

He looked behind Ali at us in surprise, as if he was just noticing we were there. Josh nodded towards Aria, Emily, Hanna and I. "Who are they?"

She stepped aside, gesturing towards us with her hands. "These are my friends, Aria, Emily, Hanna, and Spencer."

Josh smiled. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry for just showing up like this. My friend, Jess, left home about a week ago and I'm worried something's happened to her."

"What makes you think she would be here?" Hanna asked him.

Josh's mouth turned grim. "She has a habit of running when bad things happen. I was hoping if she did get into some kind of trouble that she'd be here." He ran a hand through his hair.

Aria, Hanna, Emily and I exchanged uneasy glances. The video swam in front of my mind again, remembering the pining way Josh had gazed at Jess.

"I'm sure we'll find her," Emily tried to assure him. Hanna shot her a sharp look.

Josh pulled out a small square photo out of his pocket and unfolded it. He held up a photograph of a familiar beautiful brunette with olive skin and big, chocolate-brown eyes. Her smiling face stared right at us, as if taunting us. I looked at it, immediately identifying the girl as Jess. A cautious feeling flitted through me, thinking of Jess. Who was she and what happened to her?

Even though every ounce of my being wanted to get answers, an even bigger part was screaming that something was terribly wrong.


	11. Chapter 11

11\. Reunion

Jess

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself staring at a dull, concrete wall, with no memory of last night or where I was. I felt for the fabric of my clothes. I was lying on a thin, stiff mattress and I was still wearing my black-and-red plaid shirt and ripped dark jeans from the night before. Faded sunlight filtered in through the windows across the cement floor.

I rolled my head to the side and saw the bars. _Trapped._

I was in jail. And I was still in Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Feeling groggy, I sat upright and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My head ached. I touched it and winced, a throbbing sensation pulsing into my skull.

When I looked over, I saw a young cop sitting at a big desk, looking over some papers. He was tall and lean, but still strong in his arms and chest, with dark hair and soulful chocolate-brown eyes. The detective, perhaps, I presumed. He looked to be maybe in his twenties or early thirties at least.

I eyed the handcuffs attached to his belt and the gun in his holster, and narrowed my eyes. _He_ turned me in? Gritting my teeth, I stumbled over to the bars of my cell, still feeling a little woozy and lightheaded.

When the detective noticed I was awake, he finally looked in my direction. "Good morning. I'm Detective Holbrook."

I suddenly knew who this must be. He was the officer who helped clear Alison's name of Bethany Young's murder.

"So are you the one who arrested me?" I asked accusingly.

"No," he answered. "But Lieutenant Tanner asked me to keep watch. She seems to think you're a flight risk." His eyes turned oddly empathetic.

Irritation rippled through me. "Seriously?"

"You were found on the side of the road with a concussion. You're lucky it wasn't worse."

"I was just trying to leave," I said.

"And destroying Rosewood public property in the process," a woman's voice said. "That was quite an excursion, Miss Clarke."

I turned. A thirty-something woman in a black suit strode into the station. She had light brown skin and espresso-colored eyes, and her untamable dark curls were pulled back with an elastic band. The small gold pin on her jacket's pocket said TANNER. I knew this had to be the Lieutenant that Detective Holbrook was referring to.

"Underage drinking while driving can be added to those fines," Lieutenant Tanner added.

"I wasn't drunk," I insisted. "There was a wolf standing in the middle of the road. It was an accident."

"A wolf. Well in that case, maybe I should make a call to the animal shelter." She eyed me in the cell, assessing me with her dark, intense eyes. "Tell you what? If you tell me everything you know about Jonny Raymond, I'll let you go."

The wheels started to turn in my head. "Oh, I see what this is. You brought me in here for an interrogation."

"I like to call it getting information about someone very smart," Tanner said simply. "Someone so smart that they were able to steal millions of dollars worth of masterpiece paintings and flee the country unnoticed by the police."

"In the real world, people call it blackmail," I retorted.

"No one's trying to trick you, Jess. I just need you to know how serious this is."

"Actually, you should look at Wright's Playground by the Rosewood campground," I quipped. "I hear they hold town meetings there for delinquents." I suddenly wasn't in the mood for civility.

Tanner stared at me long and hard. "You have a sharp mouth. If I were you, I'd keep it shut."

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?" I shot back.

She grabbed a thick manila folder off of Holbrook's desk and showed it to me. "You think I don't know about your record?"

I looked at the folder. JESSICA CLARKE was written on the tab in Sharpie black ink. I swallowed. Somehow Lieutenant Tanner had managed to find my criminal record from Ohio in just a few short days–of my past drug addiction, my habits of getting involved with the wrong guys, my trouble with the law.

"Jonny Raymond gets arrested for a felony, then escapes bail the moment Mona Vanderwaal is sent to a mental institution," Tanner continued. "And now new evidence shows up proving that you were the one who tried to bury the archery award that was used in court against your friend, Alison, for a staged murder. Trouble seems to follow you around, Miss Clarke."

I glared at her. "If you were paying closer attention to the details, you would know that I was the one who filled in for Alison at that archery competition. I always had the better aim."

Tanner's eyes tightened. "Do you want to stay in here overnight? Because I'm sure we can accommodate you in a much tighter cell."

"I've been in prison before," I said. "And believe me, I've seen worse."

To my surprise, Detective Holbrook stepped forward. "Is there a point to this, Lieutenant?"

"I'm just asking some simple questions," Tanner said innocently.

"What does damage to Rosewood's town sign have to do with an abductor?" he questioned.

"Jess Clarke was in town the same night that Alison DiLaurentis was arrested for murder. And now she's back at the scene of the crime once again, after five teenage girls went missing. Why do you suppose that is?"

Holbrook crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. "Well, she needs to do a Breathalyzer test first before you can fine her for driving and drinking. And I think that you should be a little more concerned with finding the person who kidnapped and tortured five teenage girls than harassing another for a car accident."

"May I remind you that you're still on probation for altering the polygraph machine that cleared Alison DiLaurentis from Bethany Young's murder?" Tanner threatened. "Stick to your cases, Detective."

Holbrook's full lips formed into a tense line. It seemed that she had struck a nerve.

I looked at him sympathetically. I knew exactly what Tanner was referring to. Hearing about Alison's arrest was like a punch to the gut.

"I may not be the perfect cop, but the people of this town expect us to do our job," Holbrook said. "The real question is, are you really willing to find Charles DiLaurentis or not?"

Just then, a cell phone rang from Tanner's jacket pocket. She reached in to answer it. "I suggest you get back on the Jonny Raymond case unless you want to be suspended again." She gave Holbrook a stern look before disappearing inside a small office.

My stomach knotted thinking about the file of my criminal record. If Detective Holbrook was assigned to a case on Jonny, that could only mean the police were still after him and I would be implicated. Jonny had made it clear the other night that he could twist it around on me. After all, I was just as responsible for what happened as he was. And he knew there was nothing I wouldn't do to protect my friends from all this, to keep them alive.

Once Tanner was out of earshot, Holbrook turned to me, his eyes soft. "Are you okay?"

I mustered a smile, trying my hardest to be brave. "Yeah, I'm fine."

His expression was surprisingly kind, and he was staring at me with some kind of emotion that I couldn't comprehend.

"What?" I asked.

"Uh, nothing." Holbrook nervously pushed his hands into his pants pockets. "So what exactly happened last night?"

I hesitated for a moment, but when I looked into his deep brown eyes, I told him the truth. For some strange, unexplainable reason I felt like I could trust him.

"I drove into the town sign," I replied. "But not intentionally, so they should cut me a little bit of slack. I mean, yes, a wolf did get in my way when I was trying to get back home, but…"

I looked up at him bashfully underneath my lashes, realizing that my words were spewing out of my mouth uncontrollably. I had an embarrassing tendency to babble endlessly when I was nervous. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

But Holbrook just smiled. "Don't be. Your mother did the same thing when she was your age."

I frowned. "You knew my mother?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Kristin. Your mom and I used to be close once."

"She never mentioned you," I said suspiciously.

"Well, it has been a long time." His expression held an immeasurable amount of interest, as if he recognized me from somewhere.

Before I could prod him any more on the subject, Holbrook handed me a small plastic cup of two white pills through the bars and a bottle of water. "Here, I thought you could use some Tylenol for the pain."

"Thanks," I said slowly, feeling confused. I hadn't known cops to be so nice.

I poured the two pills into my hand and downed it with a gulp of the water that he gave me.

Suddenly, the cell phone attached to Holbrook's belt rang. Holbrook glanced down, then unclipped his phone. "I have to take this. I'll be right back." He gave me a small, apologetic smile and stepped out of the room.

Seconds later, he reappeared with a grim expression on his face. I looked at him expectantly.

"I just talked to the DA," Holbrook said. "They're sending in the State Police Detective from Ohio to handle your case."

I paled. "What detective?"

"A Detective Clarke."

My heart pounded in my ears, making it hard to hear anything else, and then jumped into my throat. _Detective Clarke, Detective Clarke, Detective Clarke._ I heard the words echo in my head again and again, growing louder with each beat. It boomed around in my head like a bell tower, ringing out it's final end metallically, and my vision blurred.

Numbly, I sat back down on the cot, staring dazedly at the bland wall beyond the cell bars. My dad was coming for me.

When Holbrook saw the panicked look on my face, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Is everything okay?"

I swallowed. "It's my dad." I slowly faced him. "He's the detective."

He nodded in understanding, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. But I thought I caught something biter and sour twisted in his face.

I stood up and walked over to the end of my cell. "You have to get me out of here."

Holbrook gave me a sympathetic look. "Jess, even if I could, I don't have the authority to let you out of jail. I would need to talk to the DA to request temporary bail from the judge."

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"A few hours," he answered.

My hands curled around the iron bars anxiously. "That's not enough time. If my dad finds out I'm here, he'll kill me." I stared at him with wide eyes, hoping he understood what I meant.

"The law doesn't work that way," Holbrook said. "I can't just bail you out because I want to."

My spirits lifted hopefully. "But you do want to."

"Yes," he answered, but then added, "But I'm also a detective and your fingerprints showed up all over an archery award that was used in court as evidence for Alison's trial. Right now, you're listed as a person of interest."

"You think that I helped Charles kidnap and torture Alison's friends?" I demanded.

"Jess, I don't believe you had anything to do with what happened to those girls." His eyes were sincere. "But if I bail you out of jail without a judge signing off on it, Lieutenant Tanner will fire me. And then she'll bring in someone who will think you're guilty. So I need you to trust me, okay?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Okay." I had no other choice, but to trust him.

I stared up into Holbrook's eyes again, catching a glimpse of something familiar and comforting. I was filled with the oddest feeling that I knew him, and suddenly my arms broke out in goosebumps. I felt the strongest sense of kinship, of a connection to him that I'd never felt with anyone else. The thought unnerved me. I brought my knees up to my chest in a tight ball on the cot and pressed my back against the wall, trying to shake it off.

Holbrook silently went back to his paperwork at his desk. I caught the scent of Polo Blue cologne. I looked deep into his eyes, trying to convey exactly who I thought he was, but I only came up blank. I'd never felt that way before. Certainly not about my father, or anyone else for that matter. So why him? Why did I have the spontaneous urge to know more about him? Why did I trust him so blindly without questioning it?

I let out a long sigh. There was nothing else to do except stare out the glass entry doors blindly, frozen in a state of numbness. Outside, the streets were empty and still. Images flooded my mind, clear as day, of my mother hugging me when I was five years old. I'd wandered away from the playground at the park and had fallen and scraped my knee. My mother was hysterical when she found me, curled up in a patch of autumn leaves and crying, worried about finding my way back home. Safe. Comfort. Love.

And then I realized what those feelings of kinship had evoked: home, a place where I belonged.

Spencer

Later that same morning, Emily stood at my bedroom window, biting down on her thumbnail uncertainly. As of yesterday, Mona revealed that Lesli Stone had not only been a patient at Radley, but was Bethany Young's roommate, indicating she knew Mona as well. Lesli had every reason to hate us, and was quite possibly the one who kidnapped and tortured us in that place for all those weeks. She would probably stop at nothing to get her revenge against us for Bethany's death. Although Hanna and I had found the proof from Lesli's Radley patient file, Emily was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the idea that she could be A.

And then there was Josh Callahan, Alison's oldest friend. Although Alison had known him since kindergarten, she'd known, Jess, her childhood best friend, far longer. Before Alison's family moved away to Pennsylvania, her and Jess' mom were close friends once while they'd both been pregnant, therefore connecting Jess and Ali indefinitely. But by first grade, Jess made a fast friendship with Josh from her neighborhood. Within weeks, the three had become inseparable.

After, Hanna and I told Emily and Aria about what we'd discovered at Radley Sanitarium last night–that Detective Holbrook was really Jess' father–no sooner did Josh arrive with the news that she was missing. And because Ali was the only one who would know where Jess might have gone, she agreed to help Josh find her, and hadn't responded to any of my calls or texts since. It started to make me wonder what else Alison was hiding, what other secrets she could be keeping from us. It irritated me that she could keep such a huge secret. I'd told Ali things that I was too ashamed to tell anyone, and yet she had a whole other life that neither of us knew anything about. How much did we really know about Jess? And what was her connection to Charles?

Emily faced me away from the window. "Lesli Stone? That's crazy."

"That's what I said," I told her. "But maybe it's not."

"Okay, wait. You were in a room with this person," she reminded me, referring to when I'd seen a masked man in the movie room during our fake prom, whom I'd thought to have been Charles.

And just like a light switch switching on, everything clicked into place. "Yeah, and they were wearing a mask. Look, Mona's always been shady about how she met this girl. And now we know why. They were sharing a straightjacket."

"Spencer–" Emily started.

"Let's not forget that Mona got a gas mask," I said, fuming. "And she was passing out juice boxes while the rest of us were making sure that we still had kidneys!"

A sour note filled the room. Frustrated, I turned away from her and stared out the window that looked over Main Street below The Brew. I'd called Emily and Hanna fifteen minutes ago to come over with Mona so that we could discuss Lesli Stone together and what we should do next, except for Aria, who was busy trying to return Clark's film negatives she'd stolen before he noticed they were missing.

"What's taking Hanna so long?" Emily asked after a minute.

"I don't know," I said bitterly. "She probably has to drag Mona on a leash."

Emily let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, Spencer, we saw A jump off a building. A set up an underground bunker with more spy equipment than the CIA. I mean, _seriously_ , in your heart, do you believe that Lesli Stone could–"

"People can surprise you," I cut her off. "Mona maintained a four-point-oh average and perfect hair while she was tapping Rosewood's police calls."

"Spencer, we jumped on the Andrew train–"

My chest burned. "But he didn't have a motive," I argued. "This girl does. She thinks that we killed Bethany!"

Seconds later, my bedroom door opened, and Hanna walked in. She waved her hands in defeat. "I can't get to her."

"Why?" I asked.

"Did Mona skip town?" Emily said at the same time.

"No, Mona's mom busted her for sneaking out to Radley," Hanna replied. "She's totally unplugged. Mona's not even allowed to leave her room."

"Doesn't matter," I said dismissively. "I'm not even sure Mona would be of any help anyways." I crossed my arms over my chest angrily.

Hanna narrowed her eyes at me in irritation. "Now you tell me? After I tried to shimmy up her drainpipe?"

I pressed my lips together tightly, holding back the urge to throw a snarky comment her way.

"Okay, well, I have to go," Emily said. "My mom made an appointment for me and her with Dr. Sullivan. I can't be late."

Hanna looked to me. "Where's Aria?"

"She's up at Hollis," I answered. "She's sneaking Clark's negatives back into that cubby."

"Okay, so what's the plan? Are we gonna track down Lesli Stone? Are we gonna go to Philly?"

Emily grabbed her red leather purse from the end of my bed and slung it over her shoulder, turning for the stairs. "I have to get my head shrunk."

Hanna gave her an annoyed look. "Seriously?"

I flung my hands at her in exasperation, too

"Wait, what is wrong with you people?" Hanna added. "A is still out there. We have to stick together and see if we can try and catch this girl in the act." She puckered her lips defiantly.

I suddenly felt guilty about not telling the girls about my pregnancy sooner. A now knew I was pregnant with Toby's child, and that made things dangerous. I could lose my unborn baby at any given moment because of this secret. But A had also sent me new threatening messages about the baby that I didn't dare tell the others. Somehow she'd figured out I was pregnant, finding more ways to taunt me. What could Lesli really know about my baby other than my due date? And with Toby gone, I felt helpless and unprotected.

There was one person I knew that could help keep me and my baby safe from A. I didn't trust him, but I was out of options.

There was nothing left to do but usher Hanna out the door, promising to meet up with her later before school to head straight to Philadelphia and prove that Lesli was in fact the one responsible for kidnapping all of us in the Dollhouse. I waited for her to walk down the loft's steps and onto the street before pulling on my cardigan sweater and schoolbag, making sure to lock up before leaving the loft.

I was greeted by the warm, yellow sunlight outside against the blue sky. White clouds floated overhead, and the air smelled of wildflowers and freshly mown grass. It was the perfect day to snuggle up to Toby by the lake.

I unlocked the familiar Toyota Highlander that was parked behind the apartment building and slid into the driver's seat. Then I peeled out onto the road, turning left at the City Hall. The Rosewood Court House was crowded with people, and hot-shot lawyers lingered on the stone steps while they waited for trials to start.

Six squad cars sat in the parking lot when I pulled into the police station. _I'm watching your newborn_ , I recalled once more. The thought of losing my baby was unbearable. I had to do something. I couldn't stay quiet about this any longer, no matter what the message said.

As soon as I turned off the engine, I got out of the car and headed for the station entrance doors. Inside, it was cool and bright from the fluorescent lights, dimming the room. The big room was split in half by a series of jail cells and desks. Aside from the ringing phones and the sound of the ever-present walkie-talkies buzzing, the place was dead silent. On the far wall, a special bulletin board was tacked with Most Wanted posters and missing persons flyers. A black-and-white photo of a young guy with dark hair and familiar charming brown eyes caught my eye. WANTED. JONNY RAYMOND. I swallowed. It was the same guy who had stayed in my parents' barn until my mother kicked him out for stealing from an art gallery.

About a few feet away, a beautiful girl with deep brown doe eyes sat behind bars on a jail cot. She was dressed in a red-and-black plaid long sleeved shirt and skinny black jeans, with a black pair of converse. When the girl saw me come in, she froze and stiffened on the cot, as if recognizing me. Her face was feminine and she had pretty olive-colored skin, framed by dark-brown hair that fell to the top of her shoulders. An open, vulnerable expression was evident on her face. My heart stopped when I realized who she was: Jess Clarke, the girl who my friends and I had been talking about not twenty-four hours ago. Whose best friend was still looking for her.

"Spencer?"

I turned, blinking. Detective Holbrook was sitting behind a large desk with a stack of manila folders on top, looking through some papers. He looked at me in surprise.

"Um, I was looking for you," I stuttered.

I glanced back at Jess cautiously, wondering why she was here. It felt so surreal to be in the same room as her. I met Jess' eyes, wondering if she knew that Josh was here trying to find her, or that Detective Holbrook was her father. So much had happened that it was hard keep it all together. Not to mention that her secret biological father was standing in the same room with her and she didn't seem the least bit bothered by it.

Holbrook stood up from his desk. "What can I help you with?"

"I've been getting these messages," I said, showing him the threatening text message on my iPhone. "I need you to find out where they're coming from."

Holbrook took the phone from me and frowned, studying the screen. His eyebrows furrowed in concern when he read the word, BABY. " _Spencer_ ," he said empathetically.

"Can you trace the number?" I asked in a hushed voice. I glanced nervously over at Jess, hoping she hadn't heard, but she wasn't paying attention to either of us.

Finally, Holbrook broke his attention away from the phone. "And you think this is from the person who kidnapped you?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I eyed Jess suspiciously, thinking maybe she'd told him. "I'm guessing you know what happened to me and my friends."

Holbrook nodded solemenly. "I do."

"So you know there's someone out there who wants to hurt us."

Holbrook stepped forward, but then stopped as if he was afraid that he was about to cross some forbidden line. "I'll look into it, but for now I need you to stay calm. Whoever is doing this to you may not be far. Tanner is already trying to regulate town curfew for anyone under twenty-one since the story about you girls has been on the news."

"What?" I shrieked.

He raised his hand in an effort to calm me down. "It's nothing to worry about. It's just a precaution. But I'll need to borrow your phone for a little while if you want me to find the person responsible."

"How long will that take?" I asked him.

"A few hours." He stared at me, noting my tense expression. "I'll track down where this text came from. Everything's going to be okay, I promise." Holbrook gave me a reassuring smile. Then he grabbed a thick manila folder sitting on his desk, strode to the back of the station, and disappeared into a small office. I averted my gaze back to Jess' profile against the iron-metal bars. She remained on the cot, staring down at the floor.

Hesitantly, I walked towards her, feeling nauseated and unsure of what was going to happen next. Whether or not Jess knew Charles, she was another part of Ali's past, a missing piece to the puzzle. Why else would Ali keep her a secret for so long? She'd known Jess for years and hadn't told me or the other girls. And Jess being here was dangerous. A might find out and punish my friends, putting them in even more danger. Or worse…Toby.

A tight, nervous sensation settled over me. What if Jess came back here to hurt me, Ali, and the rest of my friends? What if she and A were working together? What if she was secretly A? It all started to click together, like a key unlocking the correct door. She was friends with Ali and could get all the inside information to hurt the people closest to her. But if Jess was A–and she knew Ali–would she really risk getting caught by the police when they were already so close?

Then Jess met my eyes directly, and my heart sped up. Up close, she was even prettier than I'd originally thought. Like one of those girls who was undeniably beautiful, but you didn't notice right away. Her skin was flawlessly radiant despite grungy circumstances, although part of her face was concealed by a curtain of dark hair.

"You must be Spencer," Jess said at last.

I nearly stumbled backwards when she said my name out loud.

"Relax," she said, as if reading my thoughts. "Ali told me about you."

"Uh, I wasn't–" But Jess didn't give me time to finish.

"Did Tanner send you?" she questioned suspiciously.

"No," I assured her. "She doesn't even know I'm here."

"Well, you and your friends better watch out. She's sniffing around for information."

I stepped closer, knitting my eyebrows together in complete seriousness. "Information about what?"

An unreadable expression glimmered across her face. "About Charles."

"What do you know about Charles?" I whispered. "What does he want?"

But Jess didn't answer. Instead, she looked at me guardedly, as if trying to decide if she should trust me.

There was a long pause. After a moment, I finally said, "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you." Jess gave me a knowing look.

I felt like I was going to faint. Did she know about _A?_

"You know, don't you?" It wasn't a question.

"That A wants to hurt us for escaping," Jess said bluntly.

My heart sunk all the way to my feet. "What do you mean by us?"

Jess took a deep breath. "I just mean that A isn't the type of person to let you walk away without some sort of punishment."

I stared back at her, my skin prickling with the paranoid feeling that there was something she wasn't saying.

"Look, you need to leave," I urged. "It's not safe here."

"Well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in a position to go anywhere soon," she said sarcastically. "And I don't think bailing jail twice would look very promising on my record."

I raised a disapproving eyebrow at her. "You broke out of jail?"

"Once," Jess admitted. "Like you, I've also done things I regret."

Guilt pierced my gut for judging her so quickly.

"The place where I come from isn't safe, either," she added quietly. There was a far away look in her eyes.

"Then why come to Rosewood?" I demanded. "Why would A want to hurt you?"

"A is the reason why I'm here," Jess answered, sending chills racing down my spine. Seeing my apprehensive expression, she then added, "A brought me to Rosewood because he wanted me here."

"So you know who A is."

"No." She sounded sincere. "All I know is that he wants something with Alison."

"How do you know Alison?" I insisted. "Why was she hiding you?"

"She was trying to protect me," Jess explained.

"From what?" I asked.

Jess didn't answer for a minute. Her hand shook slightly, looking almost fearful. "It's going to take a lot more than a five minute conversation to know about him."

"Who is he?" I demanded.

"My father." Jess' voice wobbled. "He hated Ali. He wanted her gone. But that didn't stop her from trying to blackmail him into letting me go."

"Do you think he's the one behind all this?" I whispered.

"My dad's crazy, but he's not that crazy," she answered confidently. "But neither of us are safe. Not in Ohio, and especially not in Rosewood."

"Jess, if you know something, you have to tell me," I pleaded. "This person wants to do something horrible to my friends, and I think they may be after you, too."

"I've told you everything I know."

I narrowed my eyes at her distrustfully. "And I'm just supposed to believe that?"

"You asked me about A and I told you. I didn't say you had to believe me."

My jaw tightened. Several thoughts raced through my head, but the more dominant one was screaming that Jess knew more than she was telling me. But before I could press her more on it, I heard footsteps coming from behind me. I swung around to come face-to-face with Detective Holbrook. The same thick manila folder was tucked under his arm and he had a tired expression on his face. When he saw me by Jess' jail cell, he blew out a long sigh from his lips.

"Spencer, you should get to school," Holbrook said sternly.

"Uh, yeah, I was just leaving," I stammered.

I eyed the folder and caught the name JESSICA CLARKE written across the tab. It looked big and intimating, almost as if the folder it belonged to had a history of breaking the law. I remembered what Jess had told me about breaking out of jail and my stomach rolled over. There was still so much I didn't know about her, or what she was hiding. And she made me suspicious. Why wouldn't she tell me about her dad?

Everything felt wrong and confusing. My head felt thick as lead trying to process what Jess had just told me and the new information about Holbrook. Then something hit me: Jess was clearly afraid of her dad, and if he truly hated Ali as much as she said he did, then he would have every reason to want to torture us. He could have planned it all along to get rid of Alison. Or he found Leslie, knowing that she was thirsty for revenge, and they'd set up Andrew purposefully to make him the scapegoat and then Leslie handled the rest. I felt sick. Jess had said her father wouldn't let her go…

After casting a long, last look at Jess, I turned for the station's doors and walked across the parking lot towards my car. Then something rang from my brown leather schoolbag. I pulled out Caleb's burner phone that Hanna had given to me. Hanna's number flashed across the phone's screen.

I flipped it open and answered. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Hanna demanded. It sounded like she was keeping her voice down purposefully.

"On the road," I answered, opening my car door and getting in. "I got held up."

Hanna scoffed in annoyance. "Well, she just raced into her faculty lunch, late. I mean, where was she? Stuck at that junkyard?" She paused. "Wait, why were _you_ held up?"

"I saw Jess at the police station," I told her.

"Jess? As in Ali's secret friend, Jess?" Hanna sounded suspicious. "Why were you seeing her?"

"Because Josh is looking for her. We need to tell him where she is."

"Wow," Hanna said. "Toby better hurry back to Rosewood before Jess commits any more felonies."

"Would you stop?" For some reason, I felt the need to protect Jess. "What are we doing when I get there?"

"Stop asking questions," Hanna snapped. "Just drive faster. Hurry up."

Just then, the call ended. I stared at the phone, annoyed, and set it down in the car's cup holder. A second later, my phone buzzed with a new text message from Hanna's phone number. I picked it up and clicked READ.

S.O.S. Meet me in Philadelphia _now_.

I rolled my eyes. Below the message was an attachment of the location for the restaurant in Philadelphia at Atlantic Avenue, where Lesli was supposedly meeting up with an old classmate for lunch. All those threatening texts from A, the animal research lab at Harwick University where Lesli worked part-time for school, indicated that she was the one who was behind what happened to us in the Dollhouse.

I turned the key into the ignition and drove out of the station's parking lot. Instead of taking the usual route to the school, I rolled down the opposite side of the street, stopping at a red light.

When I arrived in Philly forty-five minutes later, cars crowded the left-turn lane, waiting to enter the lot at _Buddakan_ , a popular Asian restaurant in downtown Philadelphia. I eyed a tuxedoed valet taking someone's car keys and placing them in a secure trunk behind the podium.

I drew in a long breath. After I received the location from Hanna, she'd called me urgently over the phone, saying that she had to pretend to be Lesli in order to get the car from the valet, and wanted me to meet her in the alley behind the restaurant. But if Hanna had Lesli's keys, we didn't have much time before the valet figured out what we were really up to.

I turned right at the pack-filled street and parked my Highlander by the curb, careful not to be noticed. Then very quickly, I stepped out of the car and snuck across the street to a dead-end valley that paralleled in between the restaurant and _Goldtex Apartments_ , a small, drippy 650-square-foot complex building with broken windows and tagged brick walls. There, behind Buddakan, was a big black Range Rover. Its doors were flung open and Hanna was bent over the back seat, rummaging around Lesli's belongings. She wore a rose-printed motor leather jacket over a Rebecca Minkoff peachy silk top and studded, strappy short leather boots.

Hanna turned when she saw me approach. Her face was pinched, looking annoyed. "Finally! I need your help looking for evidence in Lesli's car."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "You _stole_ Lesli's car?" I threw her a disapproving look.

Off my judgmental expression, Hanna added, "You can ask questions after I return it."

I pressed my lips tightly together and clomped over to the Range Rover in my Michael Kors black platform wedge-heels, opening the passenger side door to search the car. The interior was tan leather, and the windows were darkened. Perfect to hide something inconspicuous. It smelled strongly of horrid rubbing alcohol and pine tree air freshener.

I popped open the glove compartment and looked inside. Nestled underneath was an ID card from Harwick University with Lesli's name printed on the lower right side, giving her access to the animal lab in the science building of the college.

"What kind of lab did you say Lesli worked at?" I asked.

Mona had called Hanna earlier that morning, telling her where Lesli was headed later that afternoon so we could get ahold of any evidence that might prove Lesli was guilty of torturing us in that Dollhouse.

"I don't know," Hanna admitted, uninterested. "It was at a college. Why?"

I pulled out Lesli's school key card. "Maybe this key card could help us get in there. How fast do you think Caleb can make a copy?"

"I have no idea." Hanna's shoulders tensed.

I dug further through the glove department to find a spare key for the building, but the only things there was a mini flashlight sitting beside a small yellow booklet and a wipes dispenser case. I grabbed a small black leather booklet and flipped through it, hoping it could tell me anything about any hidden exits or entries to get into the science lab. Inside was a blueprint map of Harwick's science building with a yellow Post-It sticky note stuck to the front that read, _06081_ , in scribbled handwriting. I assumed it had to be the alarm code to the science building.

"God, this girl's such a slob," Hanna complained.

I stared at her, frowning. Ever since Hanna, Emily, Aria and I escaped from the Dollhouse, things had seemed tense between Hanna and Caleb. He was even willing to move into the guest room temporarily at the Marin's to keep Hanna safe from A. But what really ruined things was when Caleb put a tracking device on her car. Now it seemed Hanna didn't want to be with him anymore. He'd texted and called her several times to see how she was doing, but she hadn't responded to any of his messages. Caleb didn't listen to Hanna when she told him that she didn't need his protection.

I didn't support their relationship in the beginning, but then I saw how happy he made Hanna and how they drew strength from each other. Hanna and Caleb were complete opposites in so many ways, but the one thing they did agree on was that they wanted to be together. I felt a twinge of anguish seeing them fight like this.

Hanna picked up a round porcupine-bristle brush from the floor of the backseat and scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Ugh, she has this hairbrush back here that smells like a cat box."

"Well, what's Caleb doing right now?" I pressed.

"Why do you keep asking me about Caleb?" she bit.

"Why do your shoulders go up every time I say his name?" I retorted. "Are you guys still–"

"No, we're nothing, okay?" Hanna interrupted.

"Hanna, don't lock Caleb out," I said gently.

"Believe me, I can't. My mom keeps letting him in. I mean, they eat meals together now because I won't let him cut my meat." Hanna studied a pair of wire cutters and frowned. "What is she using this for?"

"Those are wire cutters," I informed her.

"Why does she need to cut wires?" Hanna asked suspiciously.

"Why does Caleb wanna cut your meat?" I shot back, changing the subject.

"Because he thinks I'm weak and I'm not."

I dropped the subject. I sneaked a quick peek over my shoulder, checking to see if Lesli had finished her lunch early.

"Oh my god." Hanna pulled out a shoebox filled with a dozen black, thick-rimmed bifocal glasses, the same ones Lesli wore. "She has, like, ten pairs of these grandma glasses in here."

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found Caleb's number. "Okay, look, I'm gonna text Caleb."

"No, don't," Hanna said sternly, sliding one of the pairs of glasses onto her nose.

"We need his help to copy this. I'm not gonna tell him why." My iPhone chimed as I punched in a new message to Caleb.

Hanna slowly stretched out her hand in front of the bold-framed glasses on her face. "Oh my god. I can see better with these. I needed glasses this whole time and I never knew it."

I stared at her, wondering why she was trying on Lesli's glasses. "Let me see."

Hanna took the glasses off and handed them to me. I stared through the lenses for a few, long seconds. They stretched a little bit over my cheekbones and slightly above my eyebrows, but my perception of vision was clear.

I flickered my eyes to Hanna. "Give me another pair." I removed the other pair of glasses from my face and exchanged them with Hanna for the new ones.

I reversed the new glasses and slipped them on. Still, my vision hadn't changed.

I laughed humorlessly. "There's no prescription in these."

Hanna frowned. "What?"

"They're clear," I replied. "They're fake. She has multiple pairs of fake glasses." Anger surged through me. "God, this girl is fooling everyone."

I walked around to the back of the car and opened up the trunk. A heavy wool blanket was draped over something hidden beneath it. I flung it off, revealing four long and rectangular cardboard boxes of unassembled, wire animal cages. They were labeled EXTRA LARGE.

My mouth fell open in shock. "Oh my god." I stepped back slowly, my head spinning.

The images of the Dollhouse cut through my mind like a knife to the gut. The rooms we'd been locked inside, what A was planning for us. The night I went inside the vault, I'd thought there seemed something familiar about the guy in the mask. A guy, not a girl.

My insides trembled. Of course Lesli was working for A. How could I have not have seen it until now? She wanted to lock us inside those cages like animals as payback for what happened to Bethany.

Hanna glanced between me and the boxes, looking confused. "What? What's inside the boxes?" She leaned in closer to take a better look.

"They're unassembled cages," I answered.

"Cages?" Hanna repeated. "For what?"

"They're not for gerbils, Hanna. There's four of them and each one is big enough for…" I couldn't finish the thought.

"What?" Hanna asked.

"For us."

An hour later, I stood in the middle of Caleb's apartment, which was near Hollis College, staring anxiously at Lesli's key card in my hands. The place looked more like a cheap motel room than an apartment with its mahogany scuffed-up floors, beige paint peeling off the walls, and a built-in, gapped antique vent that looked to have seen better days. A quilted bed was pushed up against a four-paneled window in the far corner of the room. The window's blinds were snapped shut and it had white curtains.

There was a small kitchen ten feet behind a missionary-style desk. On the left, a creaky hallway led down to a bathroom with the door ajar. From the small crack in the opening, I could just make out a dank toilet, sink, and rusted shower, but nothing else. The apartment smelled faintly of mold and cigarette butts.

Sara looked up from typing on her laptop at the desk. "You sure you don't want some coffee or something?"

"No, I'm okay," I said. "Thank you."

After parking at Caleb's apartment building in the late afternoon, I'd been surprised to find Sara there instead. Caleb was paying her to help him with his web design business website, and she needed the money to live without her mother. But when I'd asked to speak to him, Sara had said he'd gone out for lunch and wouldn't be back for half an hour. So I told her I would wait for Caleb, lying about needing his help to make a copy of my gym's key card that I'd lost.

I turned back to Sara nervously. "Um, you said he'll be back in…"

"He's just picking up lunch," Sara answered. She stood up and wandered over to the kitchen area.

"Cool."

Being around Sara made me nervous, especially knowing that she went through something similar as I had when A tortured her in the Dollhouse. With Sara's striking angular face, light blue eyes, and full, pretty pink lips, it wasn't a mystery why A chose her to be Alison.

I watched as Sara picked up a carafe sitting on the kitchen counter to pour herself a cup of coffee. "I know I should just ask the gym to give me a new card, but they always charge me so much," I added.

I touched my stomach and frowned. The baby hadn't been kicking lately, ever since Toby left for his police seminar a few days ago. I knew she must have sensed his absence and it couldn't have been easy for her.

Just then, my cell phone beeped, which was sitting on top of my schoolbag. I picked it up, thinking it was probably Hanna. But when I saw the familiar recipient behind the text message, my chest tightened.

Did you talk to your sister yet?

"Oh. God," I whispered.

It was my mother. She was still pushing me to accept principal Hackett's offer to write the valedictorian speech for the graduation ceremony. I wanted to tell my mom that I was too messed up to make a speech now, but I felt too drained to fight her. With the baby coming, I couldn't afford any more stress. And after our fight a couple days ago over my news that I was pregnant, I couldn't stand to be alone with her, let alone speak to her.

"Everything okay?" Sara asked.

"Yeah," I lied. "It's fine. It's just my mom." A light fluttering tapped inside my lower stomach, as if the baby had detected my lie.

A few seconds of silence passed. Outside the window, I could hear the cawing of seagulls flying over the lake from the outer town. Then I raised my eyes to Sara. "Can I ask you a question?"

Her eyes flickered to mine curiously, but then she nodded. She seemed open enough.

"Did anybody ever…ask you to talk about it?" I asked carefully.

"Um…" Sara hesitated.

It was a question that had been haunting me ever since my friends and I survived the horrors of A's Dollhouse. When the police found Sara, no one had the guts to come out and say she was the one who'd been abducted by the person who tried to kill Ali, only that she'd been found. One minute Sara was just another pretty girl in Pennsylvania. Then in just a flash of a second, she was gone. Two years later, she was discovered in the basement of an abandoned house where A had been keeping her captive.

"Well…my mom keeps asking me to," Sara said. "I guess some reporters offered money. Who's asking you?"

My mouth went dry. _Just the entire school._ "Um, my school, at graduation."

Sara smiled. "Oh, right. Emily told me. You're the brainiac."

I grimaced. It made me uncomfortable knowing that Emily was sharing all my intimate details with a stranger.

Despite everything that had happened, I still had three weeks left to finish my five AP classes, field hockey, organize the debate, decathlon and math clubs, and wait for college acceptance letters in the mail. I'd worked so hard composing the perfect GPA for my college application–getting involved in every club, school activities, sports teams, charity drives, and summer internship programs. But it had been all for nothing. In just one year my parents got divorced, I nearly lost Toby, got abducted by a psychopath, and was arrested for murder all in the midst of being tormented by A. What was the point of trying so hard to get the perfect grades when I'd lost so much? A was playing games with me and I was always losing.

But now the school was handing me the valedictorian slot on a silver platter as a way to 'reward' me for surviving being kidnapped and tortured. But none of that mattered if I didn't earn it. The only thing I was looking forward to right now was starting my new life with Toby and possibly move away with him to whichever university accepted me.

"That's not me," Sara added. "I wish I had paid more attention at school."

I looked at her incredulously. "Why? I mean, when I think about how much I used to sweat homework assignments and exams, it's just a bunch of wasted energy. None of it matters."

"I don't know." She sighed. "If I could explain how it felt to be down there and how it feels to be up here, I'd want everyone to hear it."

I stared at her, pondering it for a minute. But I didn't have time to obsess over the subject any longer because suddenly a singeing pain pressed against my lower stomach. I had to pee. _Again_.

After excusing myself to use the bathroom, I placed my hands over my stomach and hobbled over to the toilet. The pain eased as soon as I felt the warm liquid trickle in between my thighs. Even though I stopped having morning sickness, I still felt a touch of nausea occasionally. My head ached, my pants felt too tight, and my stomach cramped.

Suddenly, a harsh metallic taste, like metal, filled my mouth and it was difficult to swallow back the excessive saliva without feeling the urge to vomit. As I ignored the bile threatening to rise up in my throat, my phone buzzed for the third time that day and I flinched in response. I pulled it out of my jeans pocket nervously. I flipped open the burner phone and my heart jumped…in a completely different way.

Hey, Spence. Everything's great over here, but I'm going crazy missing you. Hope the baby is doing okay.

Love, Toby

I sighed in content, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird. I knew I should be happy about the baby coming even if my pregnancy hadn't been planned, but with every minute I didn't hear Toby's voice, the more alone and weepy I felt. Being with Toby felt so dangerously good and comforting. Not having the father with me during all this–even if it was only a few days–was too heart wrenching to bear, and then the unreasonable depression seeped in.

I stared at my cell phone screen with a lump already forming in my throat. Then slowly, I clicked it off and wiped away the tears that were now spilling down my cheeks. I took a deep breath and headed for the front door, deciding I needed some fresh air. On the way out, a group of beautiful blonde girls that I recognized from school strode across the street to one of the fancy boutiques. When they noticed me standing by Caleb's apartment door, one of the girls turned to her friends to whisper something. The others glanced at me and burst out into giggles.

My cheeks grew hot. We were all either sluts or criminals in this town. I'd gone from suspect for murder, to that girl who got pregnant in high school in just one connection between sperm and egg. It felt like I had the words _pregnant_ tattooed onto my forehead. If pregnant girls were sluts, then what were liars?

None of the girls would say "knocked up" to my face, but they might as well have.

Jess

I lay back against the cot in my cell, going over my earlier conversation with Spencer, when I heard a familiar voice.

"My name is Josh Callahan. I came to pay for Jess' bail."

I looked up and my heart thumped. Josh strode through the station's glass doors, dressed in a fitted, grey and white long-sleeved plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his hard and muscular forearms, and dark jeans. A huge surge of happiness coursed through me from seeing his familiar face.

As soon as he saw me sitting on the cot inside the jail cell, I met his deep blue eyes. They were filled with pain and concern, but most of all love. I knew he probably had a lot of questions about why I left Ohio. Josh was my best friend. I knew that I could trust him with my life and all of my secrets, but there was one secret that I could never tell him.

I was conflicted between being thrilled and anguished to see Josh again. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Detective Holbrook, surprise clear on his face, stood from his desk. "Alright. The bail fee is five-hundred and she'll need to do community service. That's the penalty for damaging public property."

Josh immediately pulled out his wallet from his jeans pocket and handed over a few hundred-dollar bills. I watched the exchange in horror. I knew it couldn't have been easy for him to get hold of money like that, not without some negotiation of some sort. Unlike me, Josh didn't have a successful cop to pay the bills. He lived with his kind and dotting parents in a cozy craftsman-style house, and three younger brothers and sisters. His oldest sister, Chloe–Josh was the second eldest of the Callahan kids–was away at college in New York, getting her degree as a pediatric nurse. While his parents struggled to make ends meet, it was Josh's responsibility to look after and care for his young siblings.

Josh flashed me his lovable, goofy grin. "She must have been painting one of her murals at the town line."

I smiled back at him faintly from his joke, an awful, guilty feeling washing over me.

Holbrook stared at him sternly, giving him an I'm-not-messing-around look. "Take a seat," he said, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

Holbrook pulled out a few pages of papers that needed to be filled out and pushed them towards Josh. After they attended to the paperwork, Josh walked across the room to my cell.

I stood up. "What are you doing?" I hissed.

"After everything we've been through, do you really still doubt me?" When he winked, I glared at him.

"That should be everything," Holbrook said, holding up a piece of paper.

"Good," I said. "Now let me out of here."

Detective Holbrook took out some keys from the top drawer of his desk and turned it into the keyhole of my cell, sliding it open. I stepped out and crossed over to Josh, instinctively plunging deep into his chest. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, resting my cheek against his shoulder. He still smelled like autumn leaves and cinnamon, and the familiar scent comforted me.

I felt Josh wrap his arms around me, pressing me to him. We held each other like that for a long time. It felt so natural being with him this way. I instantly relaxed in his arms, feeling a sense of safety.

"You leave for a week, and this is where I find you." Josh's voice tickled my ear as he laughed, stroking my hair gently.

I pulled out of his arms, laughing with him effortlessly. It was so easy with Josh.

I stood back and looked at his innocent face, his mess of blonde hair, and dark blue eyes. He was my Josh, the one constant thing in my life that I could count on to remain unchanging. The only thing that had changed about him was the six inches he'd grown from two summers ago, shedding away his childish appearance. His once soft muscles had hardened into a strong, lanky build; the tendons and veins on his hands and arms had become more prominent under his skin. His face was still very sweet like I remembered it, but the planes of his cheekbones had sharpened, all traces of baby roundness gone.

"So are you going to tell me about your disappearing act, or do I have to guess?" he teased.

I reflected his grin, taking me by surprise. I didn't think I missed him so much. "There's something I want to do first."

We walked down Main Street nearby Diva Dish, one of the local boutiques in the Rosewood Town Center, drinking our lattes. All day, I'd felt on edge walking through Rosewood's streets, thinking that someone was watching me. Like whoever had sent me that A text a week ago about knowing my secret could jump out at any moment.

I'd just confessed mostly everything I had been keeping from Josh: why I left Ohio, finding out that Ali had a secret brother who'd tortured her friends, my arrest for destroying the town sign, the fact that Jonny was involved with people who wanted to hurt Ali and me. Although I made sure not to mention that the person responsible for everything that was happening to me, Ali, and her friends was really Ali's psychotic older brother, Charles, and went by the name of _A_.

Josh took another sip of his latte. "So Alison has a brother, huh?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I wonder how she's taking it."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think it's hard for her to wrap her head around it with everything that's going on right now."

Josh nodded. "Right. Do _they_ know that you're back?" He raised an eyebrow at me, referring to Alison's friends.

"If by they you're referring to Aria, Hanna, Emily and Spencer, then that's an affirmative yes."

He looked at me, waiting.

I sighed. "Spencer came to see me this morning when I was in jail."

"So I guess the girl scouts are grouping together to figure out their next move," he quipped.

A hot, uncomfortable feeling wooshed through me. With every minute that I was in Rosewood, the more unwelcome I felt. And the more I was reminded that I couldn't escape from my past.

As we turned a corner, I did a double take. Across the street, a familiar red-haired girl coming out of The Brew caught my eye. She had short, vividly red hair, pale, gorgeous skin, blue eyes, and unforgettable square-shaped glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. _Lesli Stone_. I remembered her from what Alison told me she'd lied on the stand in court for killing Mona, how she'd implicated Hanna and the rest of her friends as well. I stared at Lesli with steely eyes, fuming.

Josh stopped to see who I was looking at. "Jess, what is it?"

I stood there frozen on the sidewalk as I watched Lesli make her way from the café to her black Range Rover that was parked on the side of the street.

I turned to see Josh looking at me with concern. "What is Lesli doing back in Rosewood?" I asked suspiciously, glancing back at her.

Josh frowned. "Why does it matter?"

"I get arrested for running into the town sign, and twenty-four hours later, Lesli Stone just happens to be here? That can't be a coincidence."

"And you think Lesli is responsible for you getting arrested?" he said with a smirk.

"No, but she's up to something."

"What?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Ever since I got here, I feel like someone is watching me. What if that person is Lesli? She could have told Jonny where I was going."

Josh placed his hands on my shoulders, all humor gone from his face. "Okay, I think you're being a little paranoid."

"No, I'm not," I insisted. "She's behind what is happening to Ali and those girls, I'm sure of it."

He looked at me sincerely. "What do you want me to do?"

I looked up into Josh's eyes, consumed with guilt, and knew he would do anything for me if I asked him.

Spencer

Later that night, I pulled my Highlander into the parking lot behind The Brew and got out. Caleb never came back to the apartment, so I ended up having to text him photos of Lesli's key card instead, and he promised he would make a copy for me tonight. The baby had been kicking all day, squirming and rolling inside my stomach relentlessly.

As I walked through The Brew to the loft upstairs, my mind went back to my memories from the Dollhouse–of A knowing about the baby. My pregnancy had first started out as one big, gigantic mistake, tearing apart my life from bits to bits. But it didn't feel like that anymore. Toby and I wanted this baby. She was a blessing.

Suddenly, a small light flashed in the corner of my eye. I turned to see one of the security cameras in the hallway blinking red as it rotated at my movement, reminding me of one of the cameras hidden inside the Dollhouse. I stared at it with prickling fear, and my vision shook. Images of the same blinking-red camera flashed in front of my eyes then, zooming into clear focus, and the sound of an alarm blaring cut through the room.

I shut my eyes. When I opened them again, I was standing inside my fake room inside the dollhouse. Thick, red blood stained my lips and I was facing the same security camera perched in the corner of the ceiling.

I dropped down to my knees to crawl swiftly across the floor, panting heavily with panic, and pushed off my knees to yank open the door. When it wouldn't budge, I pounded against the door desperately with the heels of my palms, smearing it with a deep shade of red from my bloodied hands in contrast to the stark white paint.

It was the night I'd found myself covered in blood inside the Dollhouse again. Somewhere through my cloudy memories, I'd transported back here to where it all started.

I backed away from the door slowly and walked right up to the security camera, trying to be brave. Instead of pushing the memory away, I let it show me what I had forgotten. I needed to see what I did.

"What did I do?" I heard myself scream into the camera, my lower lip quivering. "What did you make me do?"

I started to breathe faster. The security camera remained still, providing only a flashing red light for an answer. I looked at the clothes I was wearing: Toby's white undershirt and a pair of tan pants, covered in blood. Then, I could feel all the emotions from those three weeks I'd been trapped. Fear: what had I done? Did I hurt someone? And then there was paranoia: I couldn't remember the last eight hours before waking up. And why were my hands covered with blood? What was happening?

And then everything disappeared, morphing back into the long, narrow hallway of the apartment building. I blinked for a few seconds, feeling stunned, my cheeks wet with tears.

I stopped in front of the loft's door and slowly turned the key into the lock, feeling dazed. Inside, I set my schoolbag down on the kitchen counter, peeled off my black-knit cardigan, and had a thought. Now would be a good time as ever to read up on my pregnancy.

I pulled out a thick book from the bottom of my bag titled, _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ –the book I'd bought when I was two months pregnant. Then I kicked off my heels, which had suddenly become uncomfortably tight around my feet, and curled my legs underneath me as I settled onto the couch, hoping I could find some useful advice from the chapters. I flipped through the pages, absorbing as much of the information as I could.

After spending several minutes reading, I began to relax. The loft felt safer than my former home, probably because Toby lived here. I covered myself with the heavy quilt that was draped over the couch and let my thoughts drift to the baby.

As I read through the sixth chapter–ten pages filled with medical advice, symptoms of pregnancy at 6 months, and offering Lamaze and childbirth classes to be prepared–I stopped at a column of baby essentials for the mother and father-to-be before the baby arrived. Like a baby car seat to install in the back of the car for safety. I already had enough danger in my life; I didn't want my child to have to endure it as well.

I scanned through the page of items, making a mental list in my head of what to get for the baby once Toby came back from Harrisburg. And since I was almost six months pregnant, I realized that we'd also have to baby proof the apartment as well. When I heard a tapping on the door, I jumped.

Putting the book down, I crossed over to the other side of the room and opened the door. To my surprise, my mother was standing outside, holding a white plastic bag in her hands. I eyed the bag and I noticed it had BABIES R' US printed across the sides, hating the way my heart did a little leap from it. I suddenly felt furious at her for the way she'd spoken to me about my decision to keep the baby, that she was here now with baby gifts in an attempt to smooth things over, that she and my father always seemed to love Melissa more than me. Not to mention the fact that I was pregnant and hormonal, and my memories about the Dollhouse was still coming in bits and pieces.

"Mom." I frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Veronica Hastings looked like she'd come straight from work. She was wearing a lavender silk blouse tucked underneath a knee-length pencil skirt and a black tailored wool blazer. "I was at the store and I got you some things for the baby."

"Thanks," I replied slowly. Those were the first non-hostile words she'd said to me since Toby and I told her we were having a baby a few days ago.

I took the bag from her and peeked inside. There were about a dozen pink cotton onesies, small footie pajamas, tiny hats, and baby shoes. Among those were some multi-colored teething rings, a plastic purple rattle, foam blocks, a few crib sheets, a lavender-filled nursing pillow, and several baby bottles. I pulled out a pink blanket that felt like cotton and fleece woven in one and pressed the soft fabric to my cheek.

But the one that caught my attention the most was a white, fluffy stuffed lamb nestled at the bottom of the bag. It had big, round blue eyes with a happy pink smile sewed onto its mouth, and there was a silver windup at the back to play music.

"There are some baby monitors in there as well," Mrs. Hastings explained, and I felt myself begin to thaw. "You and Toby will need it, especially for the first few nights."

After a long minute of silence, she added, "Your father and I were shocked by your news, but if your decision is to keep this baby I will support you no matter what. It wasn't fair of me to treat you that way."

"Mom, it's okay," I said.

"No, it's not," my mom said quickly. "You didn't deserve that and neither did Toby. He's going to be a wonderful father. And I can't wait to meet my granddaughter, even if she wasn't planned."

My spirits lifted. "Really?"

"Yes. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," I answered. "What about dad?"

She gave me a small, reassuring smile. "I'll talk to him."

My mother pulled me into a tight hug, and I wrapped my arms around her. I could smell her Chanel No. 5 perfume as I pressed my cheek against her shoulder.

Mrs. Hastings looked around, as if she was just now noticing Toby's absence. "Where's Toby?"

"He's in Harrisburg for a seminar," I told her.

"Why don't you stay with me until he gets back?"

I bit my bottom lip. "No, that's okay. Emily has been coming over while Toby is gone." I lowered my eyes, hoping she didn't see through my fib.

Mrs. Hastings looked satisfied. "Well, let me know if you need anything."

With a kiss to my forehead, my mom turned for the door and disappeared down the hall. Then I dragged myself upstairs to my bedroom, changed for bed in one of Toby's shirts from our dresser, and climbed into bed.

Once I warmed up underneath the covers, I curled into a little ball on my side of the bed and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to come. But the permanent state of anxiety wouldn't allow me to sleep and twisted into my stomach. If a few sips of some cherry tart juice could get me through the night and help me sleep, I would do anything to make myself stop thinking about what happened. I considered going downstairs to pour myself a glass of the tart juice Toby left for me, but my mind spun dizzily from reading about childbirth pain and leaking breasts.

I felt the baby move again, switching into an uncomfortable position. I turned over and touched Toby's side of the bed longingly. The bed felt cold without him in it. Suddenly, my cell phone rang from the bedside table. I reached across the pillows to grab it, my heart pounding when I saw who was calling.

"Toby," I answered.

"Hey, you." Toby sounded just as happy as I was to hear from him, which instantly warmed my insides. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." A sudden kicking motion poked me in the abdomen, piercing me like a dozen tiny fists. My lower abdomen swelled from the insult. The baby squirmed around some more, then slowly rolled over to the left. The movement was so strong it felt more like a punch to the gut than a butterfly-like flutter.

As the weeks flew by in my pregnancy, the baby grew stronger. And with Toby away in Harrisburg, I suddenly felt terrified. The expanding of my belly was making it sink in that I was really pregnant. It was real.

"And I'm not the only one," I smiled into the phone. "Your little girl misses you. She's been upset lately without her daddy."

"Let me talk to her."

I lowered the phone from my ear and brought it down to my bulging belly. "Daddy wants to say hi to you."

As soon as I heard Toby's muffled voice from the other end, I felt her pushing forcefully against my stomach, kicking me in the ribs. The baby's hands and feet pressed into my side to turn over into a more comfortable position.

After a minute or so, I placed the phone back to my ear. "How's the seminar?"

"It's good," he answered. "But I'd much rather be with you."

In that moment, senseless tears began to flood from my eyes.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" Toby sounded worried.

"I just wish you were here," I said, and my voice cracked. "I was reading about what to do during the sixth month of pregnancy and I realized that I needed to install a car seat, but I can't because you're not here. And I don't want to do it alone."

More frightened tears brimmed at my eyes thinking about all the baby stuff I still needed to get before I had to go into labor, and how I wouldn't be able to get the car seat installed into the back of my car because Toby was in Harrisburg. It hurt how badly I needed him.

"You won't have to," Toby said gently. "I would never let you do it alone. It's only a few more days. The second that I get back, you'll have me all day. I promise."

"How?" I asked. "Charles is still out there somewhere."

He paused. "After this seminar, I'm not going to leave for any more work trips. I'm going to stay right here with you and the baby. I don't want to miss anything."

"I love you." I tried to control the emotion in my voice, but it shook. And I knew Toby must have heard.

"I love you more," he said. "I miss you so much."

My heart throbbed from his declaration. I was crying so hard that my whole body was shaking.

"Spencer, shhh," Toby soothed. "Just listen to the sound of my voice. I'll hum you to sleep."

"Hold on a second." I propped the phone in the crook of my neck while I arranged the pillows so that it was as if Toby was lying next to me and I was snuggled up to him. Next, I pulled his pillow from his side of the bed and held it to my chest, inhaling his scent.

When I was done, I brought the phone back to my ear. "Okay, I'm ready."

Toby began to hum a melodic lullaby from the other end of the line, sounding like the voice of an angel in my ear. I kept my cell phone pressed to my ear and closed my eyes, already feeling myself beginning to fall asleep.

Exhausted emotionally and physically from hunting down Lesli Stone all day, I drifted off into a peaceful and serene sleep, floating away in a cloud of happiness.

Friday night, Aria, Hanna and I turned the corner at a long, wide hallway inside the Harwick College and stopped at a laboratory door that had the words SCIENCE LAB etched across the glass paneling. I pulled the straps of my schoolbag tightly over my shoulders. We were sneaking into the science lab where the school's students and professors tested animals for scientific experiments, which also happened to be where Lesli spent most of her time. This was our only chance to get proof that Lesli was really A.

I pulled out the copied key card Caleb had given me and inserted it inside the card slot, holding my breath. When the little light above flashed green, I exhaled. "C'mon, let's go," I whispered hurriedly.

Aria walked in first, moving her flashlight through the dark room. The lab was painted a bland white, and the only thing covering the walls were animal kingdom classification tables and pictures of animal cell diagrams. There was a small steel bookshelf filled with professionally labeled boxes and thick plastic binders, and a bulletin board tacked with papers about upcoming assignments. Tables of stainless steel animal cages were pushed up against the walls filled with rabbits, rats, and other wild animals. In the front of the room was an office desk cluttered with papers and a wire basket full of file folders. A white mug of tea sat on the desk, which immediately made me think it wasn't too long ago that someone was in here.

"Lesli experiments on animals?" Aria sounded appalled.

"Of course she does," Hanna replied flatly. "What do you think we are to her?"

I could hear the squeaking of rats coming from the cages, and an anxious feeling came over me. "You guys, less talking, more looking." I glanced towards the back of the room where twelve black Mac computers sat on rows of lab desks pushed together. "Which one is her desk?"

"Umm…wait, this is it." Aria stopped at one of the desks and shone her flashlight across some papers. "Alright. What am I supposed to be looking for?"

I started riffling through a stack of papers while Hanna searched through a filing cabinet along the southwest wall. "Well, she's furnished an underground bunker, so I'm guessing she must have a stack of receipts the size of a phone book."

"So, Ezra came to my house," Aria started. "I came really close to telling him."

My head snapped up. "Telling him what?"

"About why we're here. Everything." She sighed. "I hate lying to him."

I stared at her. "Okay, but you guys aren't even together anymore, so why do you feel like you owe him?"

"No, it's not about owing him, it's just who I turn to in times like this, who makes me feel safe."

I knew Aria long enough to know the never-ending cycle of her and Ezra. Those two were either breaking up or getting back together. Aria couldn't live without Ezra, but she also couldn't be with him. And her clinginess and unwillingness to let him go only demonstrated their unstable, unhealthy relationship. Aria was treating Ezra more like a boyfriend with no romantic intention, when she should be treating him as a friend. It was sending Ezra the wrong message, giving him hope they would get back together again, and that was unfair to him.

"Is that really fair to him?" I asked her.

Aria didn't answer, a thoughtful look on her face. Suddenly, I heard a beeping sound, like a lie detector, coming from somewhere in the back of the room.

Hanna's body went stiff by the filing cabinets. "What the hell was that?" When she leaned over, the beeping sound intensified in a loud shriek before cutting silent completely.

I exchanged an uneasy look with Aria. As the beeping continued, I turned and that's when I saw it. Two tall, thin black sensors for scanning microchips stood on a dark steel desk next to a data machine.

I walked up to Hanna and placed my hands on each side of her head, moving her from side-to-side in front of the machine. The beeping of the microchip scanner accelerated at high volume.

"Spencer, what are you… What are you doing?" Hanna asked.

"Shh, shh," I shushed her. I paused and tilted Hanna's head to the side again.

"Wait, why am I beeping?" she demanded. "I haven't even stolen anything yet."

I reached over to grab one of the sensors and held it over Hanna's head. Then I slowly ran it along the back of her neck, and the beeping jumpstarted again. My heart jumped into my throat. With a wild gasp, I bent my arm back to move the scanner behind my head.

"Spencer!" Hanna shrieked. "Say something! Why are we, like, radioactive?"

I looked at her in alarm. "Bitch chipped us."

Hanna and Aria instinctively moved their hands to the back of their necks, widening their eyes.

"What the hell was that?" I heard someone say.

I heard footsteps echoing behind me and swiveled around. Two dark figures moved out from the shadows along the left, and I immediately recognized them. Standing about a foot away from me was Jess Clarke, and right next to her was Josh Callahan. Jess had changed out of her previous clothes since I last saw her, into a pair of black skinny jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt underneath a black hoodie, and knee-high brown leather boots with a black knitted beanie covering her forehead. A heart-shaped gold necklace hung from her neck.

I glared at Josh. "What are you doing here?" I hissed.

Josh's eyes turned a steely blue. " _Me?_ You didn't even bother telling me that Jess got arrested."

Aria glanced between Jess and I. "Wait, you two know each other?"

"We were going to tell you," Hanna said, ignoring her question.

"When would that be? When she was rotting in jail?" There was a protective edge to Josh's voice.

"Spencer, you went to jail?" Aria asked me.

"I went to see Holbrook," I told her.

"Holbrook?" she screeched. "After we–"

"Aria!" I cut in feverishly before Aria could finish. "We have more important things to worry about right now."

Jess eyed the microchip scanner and froze. "What is that?"

"Don't touch it," Hanna warned. "It might–"

But before she could finish, Jess walked over to the desk and the beeping sound emanated loudly from the scanner. My jaw dropped. A had microchipped her, too. I looked over at Aria and Hanna, and they both bore the same chagrined expressions on their faces.

But how? Then I recalled what Jess had said to me earlier when I'd visited her at the police station. _A wants to hurt us for escaping._

Jess turned around and frowned, noting the tension between us. "What?"

I stepped towards her. "Jess, you were trapped in that Dollhouse, too. Weren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, but her left eye twitched.

I pointed at the microchip scanner behind her. "That machine is used to track microchips. You have one too, that's why you're beeping." I looked at her pointedly.

"No." Jess stepped back slowly, frowning deeply. "So you're telling me that A somehow microchipped me?"

"Us," Aria corrected.

"We have them, too," Hanna added.

The muscles in Josh's jaw tightened, but he pressed his lips together tightly.

"When you told me that A wanted to hurt us for escaping from that place, you were talking about you," I said, my heart racing.

Jess swallowed deeply. "Okay, fine. I was taken just like you, only I didn't have the luxury of getting to choose." She frowned. "A locked me inside a dark room filled with this liquid that smelled strong, like acid. When I wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know, he'd electrocute me."

A part of me softened for her. "Why was A torturing you?"

"He was asking me questions about Ali, okay?" she said, a pain stricken look on her face. "And every time I lied or refused to answer, he would torture me with two-hundred and fifty volts. It hurt so bad I thought I was going to die."

Hanna met her eyes. "Why didn't you just tell her? I mean, if A was torturing you for information about Ali, why put up with all that?"

Jess looked away. "Because I couldn't do that to my friend."

"Did you see who it was?" Aria asked.

"What did she electrocute you with?" I said at the same time.

"I didn't see who it was, but I saw the volt. It's the same equestrian prods people use to train horses."

"Was it Lesli?" I urged.

Jess' forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What does she have to do with any of this?"

"We think Lesli is the one who put us in that bunker," Hanna answered.

Jess crossed her arms over her chest. "What makes you think Lesli is the one responsible?"

"She shared a room at Radley with a girl who was murdered," Hanna told her. "Her name was–

"Bethany Young," Jess cut off. "I know. Ali told me." She turned her eyes to mine apologetically. "I'm sorry."

I held her gaze for a moment, unsure of what to say next. It was as though Jess knew the hell I'd been put through for being suspected of Bethany's murder and she was trying to tell me how sorry she was.

"Who the hell is A?" Josh interrupted. He glanced at me briefly before turning back to Jess, looking puzzled and slightly betrayed. Aria and Hanna gaped at him in stunned silence.

Jess blew out a long breath between her lips before responding. "A is the person who put me in that place. He trapped Ali's friends in there, too."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Josh sounded hurt.

"Because I didn't want you to worry."

Josh's blue eyes flashed angrily. "You should have told me."

"I'm sorry." Jess looked at his fury-ridden face and tore her eyes away like she was about to cry.

"And now Lesli chipped us," Hanna said bleakly. "Just when I thought she couldn't get any more psychotic, she finds a way."

Aria stormed up to the data machine, as if suddenly remembering, and rolled the monitor's mouse around on the pad furiously. "She chipped us? She freaking chipped us?" Her voice rose up a pitch higher.

I felt around my neck again, trying to figure out exactly where the microchip was embedded into my skin.

Aria spun around, touching the back of her neck furiously. "Well, how do we get it out?"

"She chipped us in the bunker," I told her, realizing. "That's why we were drugged."

"Yeah, just like very other animal she sicced on us," Hanna spat. "Birds, snakes, wild horses."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Jess groaned.

"Okay, we can stand here and list A's greatest hits, but we still need something real to give to the police," I turned to Aria and Hanna. "So Aria, please keep on checking the desks. Hanna, let's check these shelves."

"Why can't we just hand over our heads?" Hanna joked darkly.

"I'll search the computers," Jess announced.

I turned to her. "Why?"

"If Lesli is A, there has to be something on there that tells us how she was able to chip all of us. We have to find out what she's planning next."

I considered her carefully. My sixth sense told me that Jess was lying.

"I'll let you know if I find anything." Jess tugged on the sleeve of her sweater and turned for the section of lab desks that were hooked up to the wall with Mac computers.

"Okay," I said awkwardly.

I quickly moved over to the left side of the room to the shelves containing the binders of information about microchip implantation and opened one up, flipping through the pages while Aria rummaged through one of the lab desks near the right side of the room.

I turned back and glanced at Hanna, only to notice that she was walking in the opposite direction to the connecting laboratory room.

I set the binder back onto the shelf and sighed. Sucking in a breath–I couldn't stand the smell of sterile liquids now that I was pregnant–I followed Hanna through the swinging double doors inside the lab, wondering what she was doing. The room was dim aside from two big fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling. It was filled with rows of stainless steel animal cages and stools were pushed up against tall, white tables of microscopes. There was an exam table in the middle of the lab that was six feet away from the cages with small surgical tools placed neatly on a medical tray for animal testing. Several brown and white rats squeaked skittishly from inside their cages as if they knew what was coming for them.

When I saw Hanna opening one of the tiny doors of the rat cages, I stormed up to her. "Hanna, what are you doing?"

"She doesn't get to keep anybody in cages anymore," she responded, referring to Lesli.

I lowered the cage's door down, locking it back into place. "Stop."

"I'm letting them out," Hanna replied stubbornly.

I looked up and saw her pulling back the blinds from the window in the back of the room. Alarm bells started to ring in my head. "Hanna, get away from the window, you're gonna set off the alarm."

"I don't care."

Fire boiled my blood. "What? You will when the campus police show up! Just get away from the window."

Suddenly, Hanna's eyes bulged out and she let out a huge gasp. There was a rustling sound somewhere close by. I looked in the direction that she was staring at and jumped back against the wall of cages, startled by the sight of a furry raccoon scurrying inside a newspaper-lined cage. He jumped down and walked around in a small circle, finally noticing us standing there.

I quickly backed away into the corner. "Oh, oh. Okay, stay back."

After sniffing the floor, the raccoon started toward us.

"Move really slowly," I told Hanna. "These are not cuddly animals."

The raccoon stood up on its hind legs and hissed, a high-pitched, terrifying sound. A sudden quickness battered against my ribcage, and I knew the baby sensed the raccoon's presence.

"Ah!" Hanna screamed. "Wait, why is it moving like that? Is it on Speed or something?"

"Hanna, it's a lab!" I yelled. "It could be on a lot of things, okay? Starting with anthrax! Just stay calm."

Just then, Aria burst into the room, looking over a piece of paper. "Guys, hey. Check out this invoice."

"Aria," I whispered.

"She just ordered like a dozen–"

"Aria," I repeated.

When Aria looked in the direction of the raccoon, she screamed. He bared his sharp and vicious teeth at her and hissed again, followed by a fierce growl, his ears flat against his head.

"Don't scream," I warned her. "You're gonna make it worse."

"Is there another light we can turn on?" Hanna asked.

In the wild, raccoons didn't like bright lights or music, and tended to avoid them at all costs since they were nocturnal animals, but I had a feeling this one wasn't in the lab for warm and fuzzy snuggles. "No." I looked at the raccoon in sympathy and my heart ached. "They're nocturnal okay? I don't wanna traumatize them any more than they already have been. We just need to get them back in their cages."

Aria's hazel eyes grew big. "Them?"

"Yes, there's rats too," Hanna said. "And they jump."

 _All thanks to you_ , I thought angrily.

Aria sighed nervously, an anxious look on her face. I walked to a white tabletop built into the wall by the cages, where a locked medical cabinet of syringe needles and liquid-filled medications hung above, trying to find some food pellets for the raccoon and rats. "Do you guys have any food?"

Hanna dug through her purse that hung from her shoulder and pulled out a plastic bag of cheese puffs. "Do they eat cheese sticks?"

I took the bag from her and quickly opened it up. I pulled out a few long, thin orange powdery cheese puffs and scattered them across the floor. The raccoon followed the scent with its black nose and found the cheese puff. He picked it up with its tiny paws, eating it within seconds.

"Hey, Spencer, not all of them," Hanna protested. "That's my dinner."

"Shut up," I said.

"Step back." Jess appeared by a black-topped lab table in the middle of the room with a broom in her hands, preparing to fight the raccoon that was still rearing up on its hind legs.

Jess' eyes shot open with panic when she saw how close the raccoon was standing next to me. "The raccoon has rabies! Spencer, get away from it!" She jumped in front of me, blocking me away from the raccoon's view.

Moving slowly towards the raccoon, she began jabbing at it with the broom's bristles. The raccoon raised its head and let out a low growl, then quickly ran back into its cage. Jess immediately went up to the cage and closed the door, latching the lock.

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks."

Jess gave me a small, unguarded smile. "Don't mention it." She set the broom against the back wall.

I glanced around, noticing Josh wasn't with her. "Where's Josh?"

"He's working on the computers," she answered. I thought I caught a melancholy look whisper across Jess' face, but in the next instant, it was gone.

I heard a squeaking sound and turned to see a brown rat scurrying out excitedly towards the food. Aria backed away fearfully at the sight of the small rat. But Jess bravely stepped around the little rodent and reached into the bag to grab a handful of cheese puffs, tossing them towards him. As Jess and I threw more cheese puffs at the rat nibbling on the food, I detected a sudden movement from the corner of my eye.

Climbing onto the exam table was an identical-looking brown rat, scurrying along the edge. Aria had her back pressed against the table, her eyes wide and scared. So she didn't notice when the rat jumped from the exam table to the top of her shoulder.

Aria glanced down at the rat on her shoulder and gasped.

"Shh," I whispered irritably. "What are you doing?"

The rat leaped off in a singular bound and landed on all fours on the ground. Aria hurried across the room beside Hanna. Suddenly, the fluorescent lights above flickered off. The others and I screamed.

"What just happened?" I heard Aria whisper into the darkness. "Why'd the lights go out?"

I squinted through the dark room, trying make out something, and saw a shadowy figure melting through the inky blackness. My eyes widened, a scream frozen in my throat. _Someone was there._

The bulb in the lamp that sat atop the exam table clicked on, illuminating the shimmering metal of the animal cages and the shapes of surgical tools. A girl stood in the bright light just inches from us.

"Have you guys lost your minds?" the girl said.

It was Mona.

I blinked against the sudden brightness, looking at Mona in surprise.

"I'm guessing this one wasn't part of your plan," Mona said, nodding towards Jess. "Hello, Jess. Nice to see you back."

Jess glowered at her. "And that's where we differ."

I glanced between Jess and Mona suspiciously. "Wait, you two know each other?"

"I know of her," Mona replied. "She was once Ali's sidekick. So tell me, Jess, how does it feel back behind bars? Danger just follows you wherever you go."

Jess set her jaw, her chocolate-brown doe eyes blazing.

"Leave her alone," I jumped in.

Before Mona could come up with a snarky comeback, Hanna cut her eyes to her. "Mona, you followed us here again?"

"Why did you turn the lights off?" Aria asked right after.

"So the security guard wouldn't see us," she answered.

"Us?" Aria scoffed. "Oh, save it, Mona. You are not one of us. You're working for A."

"You and Lesli Stone are going down," I threatened.

"We have what we need and we're giving it straight to the police," Hanna told her bravely.

"This college will prosecute." Mona's face became serious. "I'm just trying to save you from yourselves."

I narrowed my eyes at her distrustfully. "Cut the crap, Mona! The only thing you're trying to protect is Lesli's vendetta against us."

"Yeah," Hanna agreed, "which is crazy because we had nothing to do with what happened to Bethany!"

"Yeah, we had never even heard of Lesli's friend until she was found in Alison's grave!" Aria added.

Mona folded her arms over her chest. "Her friend? Where did it say in Lesli's file that she was friends with Bethany Young? She hated that girl."

"Oh, really?" I said in disbelief. "And I suppose she hated Charles, too? So much that she had to start pretending to be him."

Jess glanced quizzically between Mona and I. "Charles isn't dead. He hid out in an abandoned mansion not too long ago out in the woods. Ali and I saw it."

"And Lesli is not pretending to be Charles," Mona explained. "She's just pretending to be stable. That's why she didn't want anyone to see that file."

"She was in Radley the same time as Charles," Hanna pointed out. "You're telling me that Lesli never even–"

"I asked her myself," Mona interrupted. "She'd only heard Charles' name once."

I stared at her, unsure of whether I should believe her, then glanced at the others. The same surprised, confused looks were masked on each of their faces.

"The night that Bethany snuck out of Radley and never came back," Mona continued. "Charles snuck out that night, too."

Aria furrowed her brow in confusion. "Wait. That was the night that Alison disappeared. Charles was already dead by then."

"Not according to Lesli. They were looking for two patients. The entire place went on lockdown because of Bethany and Charles."

"He had to be dead, Mona," Hanna insisted. "He donated his organs." She turned to me. "Show her, Spencer."

I unzipped my schoolbag and pulled out the file that Hanna and I had stolen from Radley a few nights ago about Charles. A swarm of emotions flooded through me as I saw Jess' file nestled at the bottom of my bag. I glanced at her guiltily, but her composure was stone-hard.

"Look," Hanna told Mona as I handed her Charles' file.

"Spencer, why did you just give her those?" Aria whispered to me.

"Don't worry, I made copies," I whispered back.

Mona read over the scribbled handwriting on the form inside the file and looked up. "This donation form's a sham. Look at the medications Charles was taking. Nobody would want his liver. He's not an eligible donor." She handed the file folder back to me.

"So what are you saying?" Hanna asked.

Aria raised her eyebrows at her. "What, that Charles is alive?"

"Of course," Mona answered simply. "And probably planning something big and wanted to keep us distracted. Lesli's just easy pickings."

"We have a picture," I piped up. "And the person in the hoodie is not a guy."

"Spencer, if you caught A in a photo, it's because A wanted to be caught," Mona said to me.

A dark, dreadful feeling washed over me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, and my brain stalled. None of it made any sense. The donation form had clearly said Charles' organs had been donated to another hospital. If those weren't his, then who did they belong to? And who was Charles? What did he want Jess in Rosewood for?

Suddenly, an indistinct radio chatter of a policeman's walkie-talkie crackled from outside the door and everyone froze. A big flashlight beam danced off the glass of the window. _Oh no._ The police.

Mona and the others split off in separate directions to hide behind the shelves and desks like the place was on fire. I leaned down to pick up my bag off the floor and ducked inside a storage closet by the front door.

I heard the door click open, and someone entered the room. A strip of light cut across the floor underneath the door. I peered through the little window at the top of the door and looked out. A man with dark-brown skin and black, buzzed-cut hair shone his flashlight across the room, scanning the area for intruders. A Rosewood Police Department badge glowed on his navy blue uniform.

When the white beam of the cop's flashlight bounced off the walls, I held my breath. Through the glass, I spotted a dark figure crouched behind a shelf of medicine bottles, immediately identifying her. Jess pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. My heart pounded as a horrid thought came to mind. It was Jess.

Charles wanted Jess.

Jess

Once we were sure the campus police were gone, I slipped out from behind the shelf in the secondary laboratory room. Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Mona came out of their hiding spots from behind the animal cages and desks, looking relieved. Aria and Spencer exchanged a terrified look with one another.

"That was too close," Hanna said.

"I better go find Josh," I said quickly. I pushed through the swinging double doors at the back of the room before either of them could respond.

I found Josh sitting at one of the Mac computers in the lab, typing something onto the keyboard. There was a serious look on his face. It was the same look he had when he was concentrating really hard on something, where his brows furrowed into a deep V in between his eyes and his lips pressed together firmly. When he was like this, he was the same boy I remembered from when we were kids, my very best friend before the whole A mess had happened.

Josh looked up when he heard me approach, but he didn't look happy to see me.

"Hey," I said awkwardly. "Did you find anything?"

"Besides some invoices on a dozen animal microchips, nothing." He dropped a few papers labeled, INVOICE, onto the desk. "I'm starting to think this is a dead end."

"Wait." I picked up one of the invoice forms, reading it over. My eyes stopped at one of the lines typed below the purchase history. "This one says twelve microchips were ordered for animal testing, but there's only seven in the packages."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I saw one of the boxes in the other lab." I frowned. "It was opened like someone had…"

"Like somebody stole them," Josh finished.

An unsettling, disturbing feeling creeped down my spine. I pressed a finger lightly to the back of my neck and a throbbing sensation made it ache. I winced. After Spencer and her friends had discovered the horrifying revelation that Charles had inserted animal microchips into the backs of our necks to track us, we'd spent the better part of the evening scouring the lab for clues that could prove Charles DiLaurentis was the one who tortured us.

"Mona was right," I said quietly. "It wasn't Lesli."

"Well then you can find out for yourself what he's been up to." Josh stood up fluidly from the lab desk, and he was out the door before I could stop him.

I followed him out to the student parking lot behind the science building, running out of breath trying to catch up to him. "Josh, wait!"

He turned around, a dejected expression on his face. "What do you want me to say, Jess? You lied to me."

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was right; there was something I had been keeping from him. I felt sick to my stomach hurting Josh. We were connected in so many ways–he was my home, the only family I've ever had–and I was terrified of losing that. It was selfish of me to keep him around when I could only give one part of my life to him, and he deserved better than that.

Josh and shared everything together, even our lunches. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't. How could I explain it to him in a way that would make him understand?

I blinked back tears. "I was trying to protect you."

His eyes were angry and hurt. "I thought we were closer than that. We used to be able to tell each other everything, remember?"

"We are," I insisted. "Josh, the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. Our friendship is the most important thing to me."

"Well, that's just it." Josh's deep blue eyes bored into mine. "Don't you ever get tired of being just friends?"

"What? No!" I stared back at him in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Before I could react, Josh suddenly took a step toward me, quickly closing the distance between us, and his lips were on mine. His hands pressed to the sides of my face as he kissed me eagerly.

Josh's full, sensitive mouth was surprisingly soft and warm, molding to mine. I could taste his desire and longing as he drew me in closer. And I did nothing to stop it. Instead, I just stood there, letting him kiss me.

He tangled his fingers wildly through my hair while he slid his other hand around the back of my neck, his breath sweeping over my face. With a passive reluctance, I parted my lips and I was kissing him back, finally caving in. Josh hardened his mouth against mine in response and mine unexpectedly turned urgent. Against all reason, I moved my lips with his in ways that I couldn't understand.

Why wasn't I stopping him? And most importantly, why didn't I want to stop? Why was it that he was holding me so dangerously close to his body, and I liked it? That I still couldn't be closer to him?

I ran my hands along Josh's strong, muscular shoulders and into his hair. And in that moment, all I could feel was Josh and the heat emanating off of him into me. I twisted my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

Then Josh pulled back reluctantly to cup my face in both of his hands, gazing into my eyes intensely. "I'm in love with you, Jess," he said in a strong, confident voice. "I love you. I always have, and I want to be with you."

I stared at him speechless for a long minute, unsure of what to say. His touch felt surprisingly warm and satisfying on my skin. I couldn't understand the range of emotions swimming through me just then. It terrified and confused me, but there was also an excited fluttering that throbbed its way through my entire body.

Josh stared into my eyes. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll leave you alone."

"Josh…" I felt a lump in my throat. "That's not what I want, but I don't know how I feel right now."

"Well, when you figure it out, I'll be right here." He gave me one last long, lingering look before walking out of the lot.

I stood there for a minute, trying to contemplate what all of this meant, when I heard someone coming up behind me. I swung around, my heart nearly catapulting into my throat when I saw who it was.

Spencer stood there on the pathway leading up to the building, looking just as surprised as I was.

My hand flew to my chest. "Spencer."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she said apologetically.

"No, I…" I stammered. "I'm fine."

"How did you know I was pregnant?" Spencer blurted.

I blinked at her, taken aback. I knew she must have been referring to our earlier confrontation with the drugged-up raccoon from the science lab. She sure didn't hold anything back.

"You're showing." I glanced at her prominent stomach sticking out between her hips.

Spencer looked down anxiously at her baby bump, noticing for the first time her protruding navel that was bulging slightly from beneath her shirt, and her cheeks reddened.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," I assured her.

She gave me a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Who's the father?" I asked.

"His name's Toby," she answered.

I looked at her in surprise. "Toby Cavanaugh?"

Spencer frowned. "Yeah, you know him?"

I nodded. "A little bit. We never talked."

The last time I saw Toby Cavanaugh was three years ago, before Alison disappeared. I remembered Toby from when we were kids–Ali used to tease him relentlessly along with his, step-sister, Jenna. In Rosewood, he was known as the town's bad boy who had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and always seemed to know where you were. When most people saw Toby, they used to cross to the other side of the street to avoid him. He was a year older than Ali and her friends, was tall, wore black and leather, and was often seen with his motorcycle out on his front porch. He spent hours with his bike, playing with the parts or shining the exterior to perfection. During my summers in Rosewood with Ali, I'd always wanted to talk to Toby, but never had the courage to do so. He was mysterious, but kind and soft-spoken. The kind of person I could see myself getting along with. Plus, I had a soft spot for outsiders.

But Alison had a complicated relationship with Toby. After she and the other girls had accidently blinded Jenna Marshall in a fire, Ali panicked and blackmailed Toby into taking the blame, saying that she would tell everyone about his secret relationship with Jenna if he didn't. Unbeknownst to the others, Ali had seen Jenna forcing herself on Toby and used it against him. By the next morning, Toby had confessed to setting a firework to his garage and blinding Jenna in the process.

Toby's parents had him homeschooled for the remainder of the year, and by next September, Toby was sent away to a reform school in Maine. I recalled Alison and I watching him leave that fateful day from her upstairs window. His father drove him to the train station, where he was forced to take the train to the airport alone. It was almost as though they wanted to pretend he didn't exist.

Although Ali insisted that Toby was grateful for what she did, as it helped free him from Jenna's control, I could still see the guilt that consumed her. Leave it to Spencer to fall in love with a guy who was different than everyone else in Rosewood.

I looked ruefully out at the Harwick College campus and sighed, thinking about my kiss with Josh. Everything had been so much simpler when it had just been the two of us. When I was just a girl, and he was just a boy. Best friends, nothing more and nothing less. Now I was having these confusing thoughts and mixed feelings I couldn't understand that hadn't been there before.

"Listen, I know how hard it is to keep secrets from the people you care about," Spencer said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I turned to her. "What makes you think it bothers me?"

"Because I have someone who I love more than anything, and it kills me to have to look him in the eye every day and not be able to tell him the truth."

I swallowed. "Does it ever get better?"

"No," she answered honestly.

"I just hate lying to Josh," I admitted. "And he's one of my best friends. We tell each other everything. At least you have your friends to rely on during times like these, I don't."

"That's not true," Spencer disagreed. "You have Alison."

"Yeah, so do you." I smiled at her meaningfully. "Well, I should probably get going. Goodnight."

I started to walk over to my Honda Civic that was sitting in the student parking lot when Spencer called my name.

"Jess?" she called out.

I turned back. "Yeah?"

"Be careful." There was a strange, worried edge to her voice, and she had an anxious expression on her face. It seemed like she was very nervous about something.

"Always am," I said, frowning, not completely understanding why she was saying this.

Before I could give it a second thought, I walked towards my car and slid into the leather seat. Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket. Slowly, I pulled it out and frowned. My phone had one new text message.

Do you share everything with your friends? Keep Payton out of my way, or his "accident" at the hospital will seem like child's play – A

My hand clamped over my mouth, and my eyes widened in shock. I dropped the phone to the car floor, and it clattered with a clang. _What did A do to_ _Payton? Had he hurt him?_ I stared at the text on the screen in horror, reading it over and over until I understood what it meant. If Payton was in the hospital, then Jonny must have somehow escaped our trap and was still wandering around in Rosewood.

Determined, I quickly put the key into the ignition and sped out of the parking lot, heading straight for the Rosewood Community Hospital. I had to see Payton. Maybe there I could finally get some answers.


	12. Chapter 12

12\. O Brother, Where Art Thou?

Spencer

"Hi, this is Alison. I'm not available to take your call. Please leave me a message." Aria pressed END on her iPhone's touch screen after Alison's voicemail message finished.

It was Sunday night, and we were sitting on the living room couch in front of my laptop, looking up websites on the internet on how to remove microchips. Aria and I had left Alison several messages on her phone, but so far she hadn't responded to any of them. I wondered if she was with Jess–a girl from Ohio she'd opened up about knowing since childhood and who was in danger from A. What if something happened to Jess and Ali couldn't call us back? I tried not to think about that possibility.

Frustrated, I turned back to the website on my computer. The page went into detail about the components of microchip implantation as well as the location, and offered suggested courses of action on how to remove them surgically. One section of information mentioned removing the microchips would be painful if the area wasn't numbed first and were usually very small, making it extremely dangerous if not used with extreme caution. But since I was pregnant, I would have to use topical anesthesia rather than take painkillers like everyone else.

Aria sighed. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah." I clicked the link to a video that explained how to remove a dog's microchip and then clicked play. "Most microchips are about the size of a grain of rice and all they contain is an ID number, but…ours feels bigger." I felt the lump in the back of my neck, which had somehow grown swollen, and rubbed it. "It's like A modified it so that he could track our every move."

Aria stared at the computer screen and widened her eyes. "Oh my god! What is that?"

I looked at the video Aria was staring at. Someone was cutting open a small patch of skin from the dog's shaved belly with a medical tool as they removed the chip. "Somebody removing their dog's microchip," I answered. "We're gonna have to get it out somehow."

"Yeah, on second thought, maybe we should just keep ours in," she said nervously.

"Maybe we should," I admitted quietly, an idea quickly forming in my head.

Aria looked at me. "Spencer, I was joking."

"No, I'm not. A doesn't know that we know he's tracking us. That's the only edge that we have over Charles. And we have to figure out a way to use it."

Aria's cell phone rang and she jumped, immediately touching the back of her neck to feel for the microchip.

"That's your phone," I told her.

Aria reached for it from the coffee table and looked down at the screen. I noted the intense expression on her face.

"Is it Ali?" I asked.

"Mona." She stood up without taking her eyes off the phone's screen, then turned back to me. "We're on for tomorrow morning. Lesli finally agreed to talk to us."

My stomach twisted. After our run-in with Mona at Radley, she'd reluctantly agreed to set up a time for us to meet Lesli and ask her about Charles. We'd only just discovered earlier tonight that Ali's long-lost brother–and the new A of the game who'd been stalking us–was indeed alive, but Ali still didn't know the story. How could Charles' _organs_ be donated if he was that heavily medicated from Radley? Did that mean he was still aliveafter all? Did that mean he was after Jessall this time? How could there be no trace of him anywhere? What did he want?

Since Lesli was the only one who seemed to know who Charles was, we needed to talk to her about him, to find out what she knew. But more importantly, Ali deserved to know the truth about her brother.

"Okay, Ali has to be there." I pulled out my phone from my jeans pocket and dialed Ali's number. "Charles is her brother. She needs to know he's alive."

"Yeah, and anything else that Lesli can tell us," Aria said fiercely. "She might know who A is. And not just a name, but his face."

The phone rang three times before going directly to voicemail again, and I hung up. _Ali, where are you?_ I thought irritably.

I turned to Aria. "Where the hell is she?"

Jess

That same Sunday night, I pushed through the Rosewood Hospital's entrance glass doors and ran up to the ninth-floor intensive care unit where Payton was being held. I'd called the hospital fifteen minutes before speeding into the parking lot and one of the nurses informed me that Payton was in very critical condition when they'd brought him in, so they had to move him to the ICU.

A million thoughts swarmed through my head as I sprinted down the hallway to the nurse's station. I was so focused on reaching Payton that I didn't see someone walking by until I smacked right into him.

"Oomf." A dark-haired guy in a white coat and blue scrubs stood in front of me. He was cute in a tall and lanky sort of way, with dark-brown wavy hair. And he had soft pink lips, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped brown eyes.

"Oh, sorry," I said, slightly distracted.

"Don't worry about it." The guy gave me a charming smile that showed his perfect, pearly white teeth, his eyes sparkling. "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Wren."

I thought I heard a British accent in his voice. "Jess," I answered reluctantly.

"That's a pretty name." Wren gave me an appreciative once over, starting at my legs to my face.

I studied him skeptically for a minute. Whoever this guy was, I didn't trust him one bit. "Thanks. But I should really get going."

I started for the long, U-shaped nurse's station desk at the front of the room, but Wren quickly sidled up next to me. "Is there something I can help you with?

"Unless you can miraculously heal my friend from a brutal mauling, I highly doubt it," I replied sarcastically.

"I work in the radiology unit," he offered. "Perhaps your friend was placed there."

"Great," I said flatly. "Maybe you can donate someone's intestines to the mausoleum." Was I supposed to be impressed that he was some big-time doctor?

"Well, you're a bit of a smartass," Wren quipped.

"You're a pain in my ass," I retorted, swinging around to face him. "Look, I really don't have time for banter, so save your lame pick-up lines on some other girl. I'm not interested."

"What's your friend's name?" Wren asked.

"Payton King," I answered.

"Well, it just so happens that Payton is my patient."

I stared at him in sickening disbelief. "You're kidding."

"I can take you to his room if you'd like." He smiled at me.

I glared at him. "Just keep your hands in your pockets."

Then I strode beside Wren down the hall of the rows of patient rooms, making sure to keep a safe distance from him. Wren had the vibe of a typical manipulating charmer written all over him, and I wasn't about to fall for it just because he happened to have a sexy British accent.

Wren stopped in front of the door to a private room and stepped aside to let me through. I eyed him suspiciously before walking past him. Inside, the room was spacious and clean with a singular white bed against the wall. I stared anxiously at Payton lying unconscious on the bed, a deep lump forming in my throat. There were dark purple bruises on Payton's face and his lip was split open, and his eyes were red and swollen. Metal rails lined the sides of his bed and clear tubes were connected to his blood-cut hands, where an IV drip bag hung above for a blood transfusion. Knowing that the nurses and doctors replaced ounces of blood that had left Payton's body was upsetting enough without Wren watching me have a meltdown.

A _beep, beep_ noise came from a monitor that was recording Payton's heart rate and blood pressure. The hospital gown's sleeve had risen up to his shoulder, exposing a deep gash wound. Beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head, neck and upper arms, Payton looked like he'd just returned from war. I couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't gone after Jonny that he wouldn't be here. Everyone around me got hurt.

"Your friend, Payton, was brought in with several injuries," Wren said. "He's in very critical condition."

"What kind of injuries?" I asked nervously.

Wren grabbed a clipboard from the foot of the bed and turned over a page. "There were some bruises and cuts found mostly along his stomach and chest, and he has a couple broken ribs."

My stomach dropped. "When will he wake up?"

"In most cases like Payton's, he could wake up in a few hours or days," Wren said. "We're still checking the extent of his injuries, but it's hard for us to give an accurate prognosis until he gets an X-ray."

"Do you know who did this?" I asked quietly.

He dropped Payton's clipboard back into the slot at the end of the bed. "Not yet, but it looks like he was caught in some sort of ambush."

I looked more closely at Payton and it felt as though someone had shot me, bombarding hard into my chest. This was no accident; it was A. I took a shaky breath, willing myself not to cry.

Wren peeked over at me, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

I nodded numbly. "Yeah. Um, I just need some air."

I walked around Wren and pushed out the door, turning the corner down a long hallway. I sunk down into on one of the plastic chairs outside of an exam room and raked my fingers through my hair. I needed to think.

I glanced at the wall and tried counting the number of seafoam-green tiles at the bottom corners. I pretended the hues of blue mixed in with the green was the ocean washing across a shore of kelp. Doing this always calmed me down. By the time I got to the south-end tile corners, my vision blurred, and the walls around me wobbled and spun.

A had sent me a text about Payton just after Josh and I broke into Harwick College's science lab to get information about Lesli Stone, telling me that he knew about Payton's involvement with catching Jonny in a trap. Which could only mean that A knew what Payton knew about him, just like A knew about everything else. All of our secrets, the fact that Jonny had been stalking me for a year to get revenge against Ali, what my dad was really doing to me. A probably knew who killed Marion Cavanaugh at Radley Sanitarium, too.

All Payton was trying to do was protect me, and now because of me he was being punished for it. It made me feel so horrible that I couldn't breathe. Tears touched the corners of my eyes.

A few minutes later, Wren appeared with a venti cup of coffee in his hand. I gave him an annoyed look. "I thought Brits preferred tea?"

His eyes were surprisingly soft. "I took a chance and thought maybe you'd want some coffee."

"No amount of caffeine is going to make me feel better," I said.

Wren handed me the coffee cup and sat down in the chair next to me. "You're not responsible for what happened to Payton."

I looked at him skeptically. "Aren't I? I mean, look around. Ever since I came back, it feels like I've been screwing everything up."

"It's hard to watch someone you care about get hurt," Wren said kindly. "Particularly when someone like Payton is suffering and there's nothing you can do."

I looked down at my hands. "He's in here because of me. Payton was only trying to help me and now he's hurt. I'm getting really tired of losing people."

"Why don't you go home and get some rest?" Wren suggested. "I'll call you if anything changes."

"No," I insisted, and stood up from my chair. "I'm not leaving him."

"Staying here won't do any good," he said. "We can't diagnose his injuries until he wakes up, which could be hours."

I clenched my jaw stubbornly and glared at him defiantly. "I'm staying." His clinical talk wasn't going to intimidate me.

Wren sighed, but nodded understandingly. "Well, if you're going to be here all night you should at least have someone come stay with you. Is there someone you can call?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. I'll be here if you need anything."

Wordlessly, I walked back towards the door of Payton's room, but then Wren paused. "Payton is a lucky guy," he called after me.

I turned, catching the meaning behind what he was saying. "It's not like that."

"No?" Wren's eyes shined hopefully.

I rolled my eyes. "Dream on." But when I slipped inside Payton's room, I could feel Wren watching me as I walked away.

Once Wren was out of earshot, I wandered over to the window and pulled out my phone, punching in the number. "Hey, it's me. Payton's in the hospital."

When Ali pushed through the door to Payton's hospital room an hour later, I felt a surge of relief wash over me, and I got up from the purple vinyl chair I'd been sitting in for the past two hours by Payton's bed. A brown leather Louis Vuitton duffel bag hung over her shoulder.

"Hey," Ali said, shutting the door quietly. "Are you okay?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. But Payton, he's…"

"I know. The doctor told me what happened."

"Wow, Wren has just been all sorts of help tonight," I grumbled.

Ali frowned. "What?"

"Wren, Payton's doctor."

She looked confused. "Um, no. The doctor I talked to wasn't Wren, it was somebody else. She told me Payton was assigned to a surgeon and a radiologist."

I scoffed. "I should've known."

Ali looked at me worriedly. "Is he safe here?"

"I don't know." My voice wobbled with emotion. "I've been with him all night. Or at least since I found out he was taken to the hospital."

"Did anyone see who it was?" Ali asked.

"No," I answered. "All I know is that he got attacked by someone, but they don't know who. It could be hours, days, before Payton wakes up."

Ali pressed her lips together angrily. "A did this. He found out what we were going to do to Jonny, and now Payton is paying for the consequences."

"But why?" I demanded. "Why would A care if Jonny got caught?"

"Well, we know Jonny was in the N.A.T. Club," she replied simply. "Maybe he's working for A, too."

"Or maybe A did something incriminating and wanted to keep Payton quiet," I said.

"Payton has to wake up," Ali urged. "He might know who A is."

I looked over at Payton, who was still lying motionless and unresponsive on the hospital bed. His eyes were closed, and all the muscles in his forehead and cheeks were relaxed. He looked peaceful even. If it weren't for all the dark purple bruises that colored his face and the cuts marring his arms and chest, I would've thought Payton was just sleeping.

I moved over to him and held his strong hand in my smaller one. "He looks like he's sleeping, but he's not." Tears brimmed over my eyes.

Alison touched my shoulder gently. "We'll find the person who did this."

I narrowed my eyes darkly at the deep, crimson-red blood seeping in through Payton's hospital gown. "I know."

Without saying anything more, Ali pulled out a beautiful cashmere blanket from her bag and handed it to me. "Here, this might help."

I took the blanket from her gratefully and draped it over Payton, tucking it up to his chin. I could only imagine Alison had brought it as an attempt to keep him warm while he was unconscious. The small table beside his bed, I noticed, had bouquets of flowers and _Get Well_ cards arranged in tidy little rows. Payton's mother had driven up from Ohio to see her son shortly before I'd arrived. One of the cards had been signed by someone in loopy handwriting with the word _Kisses!_ at the bottom. I picked it up with shaking hands, furious and terrified at the same time. _A_.

I sat back down in the chair beside Payton's bed, watching the monitor recording his heart rate. I kept expecting the heart monitor to flatline. His hands were twisted up with clear, plastic tubes and one was taped under his nose to help him breathe. I wanted to cry. It was torture to have to see Payton like this.

Alison pulled over a chair next to me and took my hand. "This isn't your fault, just so you know."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked.

The corners of Ali's lip twitched. "Because I know you. And because you always make that face when you're thinking too much."

"I do not!" I protested.

Ali looked at me disbelievingly. "You do." She paused. "Payton would've gone after Jonny whether or not you had stopped him. All he ever wanted was to keep you safe."

"He's in here because of me," I disagreed.

"No, this was A. You can't blame yourself for this."

I cast my eyes away from her. Payton was so brave and honorable, and willing to risk his life to protect me. There was nothing he wouldn't do for the people he loved. It became clear to me that I never should have involved him in any of this. It was too dangerous. Knowing that he was suffering because of me tore me up inside.

One of my oldest friends, who'd been more like a brother to me, had willingly walked into A's trap, sacrificing himself to save me from Jonny. Then, even while A had tortured and beaten him, Payton still wouldn't give me away.

I couldn't even be angry with him for trying to handle Jonny on his own, but I would never forgive myself for almost getting him killed. This was all my fault. If Payton hadn't tried to help me, none of this would've happened.

After a few minutes of silence, I saw Payton's fingers start to twitch. I sat forward, alert. First, his fingers curled around the blanket. Then his eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the darkness of the room.

"Payton," I whispered. I glanced at Ali. She seemed as stunned as I was.

"Jess," he rasped weakly, turning his face towards mine. It sounded like it was hard for him to speak.

"Do you need some water?" I asked.

Payton swallowed hard. "Yes."

I reached over to pour him a glass of water from the jug that sat on the table next to his bed and pressed it to his lips. After a minute of drinking, Payton tried to sit up, but he was still wounded from the altercation and winced in excruciating pain.

"How are you feeling?" Ali asked him gently.

"I've been better." Payton glanced down at the IV tube sticking out from his arm and then looked around, looking dazed and confused. "What's going on?"

Ali and I exchanged uneasy looks. "Dr. Kingston said you were ambushed," Ali said. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Yes," Payton croaked. "I remember. Jonny…" But before he could finish, he started coughing deeply, still weak from the blood loss.

"Jonny, what?" Ali demanded. "What did he say? How did he escape? Do you know who A is?"

"Ali," I said sternly. "Give him a minute."

"We need to know who A is," she urged. "If Payton knows something, it could help us stop whoever this person is that kidnapped my friends. Who took you."

Payton closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering. "He knows, Jess."

I leaned in close to him. "Who knows what? Jonny?"

"No, not Jonny. Charles. You're the only one who can stop him, and he knows it. That's why he's after you." His eyes were filled with panic and worry. I'd never seen him so scared before.

"Charles is coming after me and my dad," Ali said quietly.

I turned to her and frowned. "What?"

"Charles sent my dad a card, telling him he's coming home for his birthday," she admitted. "He's alive."

"She's right," Payton spoke up. "He was there the night Jonny escaped. I saw him."

My heart pounded. "What do you mean you saw him?"

"After you guys left, I had Jonny right where I wanted him," he said. "But he must have figured out what we were doing because then somebody in a black hoodie showed up and attacked me. Jonny called him Charles when he freed him. The next thing I knew, he was stabbing me with hot pokers, trying to force me to give him information about you."

"What did he want to know?" I urged gently.

"He wanted to know what your weaknesses were," Payton replied. "He wants to kill you."

I drew in a sharp breath. Ali gaped at him with wide, scared eyes.

"When I wouldn't tell Charles what he wanted to know, he dumped me on the side of the road," Payton continued. "That's when the cops found me."

Ali's forehead puckered with worry. "Did you see his face?"

Payton shook his head slowly. "No. He was hidden underneath his hoodie the entire time and he used a voice enhancer to hide his identity."

I sighed. "Great. So we're right back to where we started."

Just then, Ali's cell phone rang in her bag. She pulled it out to see who was calling and sighed, as if annoyed. "It's my dad." Ali looked at me apologetically. "I have to go. My dad' waiting outside. The only reason he let me come at all is because I told him Payton was in the hospital. Josh had to drive me."

I looked at her, finally understanding. "It's about Charles, isn't it? That's why he sent your dad that card. He's coming after your family."

Ali's chin wobbled fearfully. "Yes."

"I'll stay with you," I offered.

"No, Payton needs you. I'll be fine, really. And you need to be at school in the morning. You have that placement exam to take."

"Don't remind me," I groaned. "Why do they even have these tests?"

The placement exam was the 'mandatory' test that people like me had to take in order to transfer into a new school. And if I wanted to finish my senior year before graduation, I needed to pass. Scoring that scholarship admission into Yale was my only ticket out of here and to escape to the college school of my dreams. Somewhere far, far away where my controlling father could never hurt me again. That's why I'd had my life plan mapped out since I was six-years-old" graduate high school on time with high honors, finish college, and land a job as a professional painter at one of the most prestigious art galleries in New York. It was the path I chose, one that would not be dictated by my dad. But truthfully, it was more of a survival plan than a life plan.

"You'll do great," Ali assured me.

I pulled her in for a hug, holding her tightly. "Just be safe."

She squeezed me back. "I will, I promise."

I felt my phone vibrate from inside my jeans pocket and I dug it out. There was a new text message. I opened it up and my stomach turned over.

I wonder what Ali would think if she ever found out what you were really doing with her brother. – A

I read the text with trembling hands, feeling a mess of guilty feelings. What had I done?

Spencer

The next morning, I hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, getting my stuff together so I could be ready to meet Aria at The Brew. When I set my phone down the kitchen table, my iPhone's screen flashed with a new message. Earlier that morning, Hanna had replied back to Aria's text about meeting with Lesli at Mona's house, saying she'd see us there. The clock that hung from the wall in the kitchen read 7 A.M. If I wanted to get to The Brew on time, I would have to leave now.

Last night, after Aria and I aimlessly called Ali with no success, I went straight home and crawled underneath the covers of my bed, trying not to think about Charles or his evil A plan. I tossed and turned all night, consumed by thoughts of my baby's safety. Without Toby here, I was a mess. It didn't feel right, being away from him. I couldn't be at ease until he was here with me. The time spent apart from him made the level of anxiety even more forceful. It was bad enough that my breasts were lumpy and swollen, but there was still so much to do before the baby came. Like baby-proofing the loft, installing a car seat into the back of my Highlander, signing up for childbirth and Lamaze classes. And Toby couldn't help me with any of it because he was all the way in Harrisburg for an emergency police conference.

The thought had brought frightened tears to my eyes. I didn't want to prepare for this baby by myself.

Eventually, I'd slipped into a deep sleep. But when I woke to the morning sun shining through my window, I still felt on edge. My earlier conversation with my friends about Jess' connection to Detective Holbrook plagued my mind. It was strange to think that all this time, after being around Holbrook and seeing him, that he had a daughter out there somewhere who had no idea. And now she was here.

A hot, uncomfortable feeling coursed through me. Every time I was around Jess, all the guilty and weird feelings about Holbrook came rushing back. I hadn't been able to relax since Hanna and I found Jess' original medical file in Radley's basement proving that Detective Holbrook was her biological father. Her other dad, the one from Ohio, knew about her birth father and had tried to bury the truth from Jess by filing a restraining order against him. I found it suspicious, though, that Holbrook wouldn't have mentioned that he had a daughter when he was helping Hanna and her mom after she'd been framed for the murder of one of Rosewood's young officers, Darren Wilden. I didn't want Jess to find out the truth from A. Not wanting to stress about it, I decided to shove the topic aside for the time being until I figured out how to tell her.

To my utter surprise, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, Toby stood in the doorway in a striped burgundy sweater that fit his muscular chest and arms snugly, and I felt the incredible relief of seeing him.

"Hey, you're back," I cried gleefully.

Toby immediately wrapped his arms around my back and kissed me long and deeply, rolling his tongue against mine sensually. I took his face in between my hands as he backed me into the room, our lips smacking together in an explosion of passionate kisses. Breaking the kiss, Toby picked me up and slowly spun me around in a circle.

I laughed giddily. "Hi."

"I missed you." He set me down and leaned in to kiss my belly as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world. "And I missed you."

A hard fluttering tapped against my lower abdomen in quick spurts like drums. I giggled. The baby was getting stronger and more active every day, especially now that Toby was back home.

I rested my hand warmly against my bump. "She missed you, too."

Toby smiled and placed his hand over mine to feel her kick. "Wow, she's kicking so much now."

I thought I heard a slight sadness in his voice. Even leaving for just a couple days could mean missing out on something new with the baby.

"You didn't miss anything," I tried to assure him. "But I was actually just leaving."

Disappointment lingered in his eyes. "No, no. Change your plans." He tried reaching for me, but I reluctantly pulled away.

I looked at him longingly. "I can't."

He crushed his mouth against mine in an attempt to try to change my mind. The intoxicating taste of his lips pulled me in, making it difficult to resist him. I kissed him back and his mouth covered my own in response, breathing hard. But as usual, Toby could feel my tension.

He pulled away, looking confused. "Wait, what's going on? Is your mom here?"

"No," I answered. "No, she's still in Philly. I just…I have to go. I'm sor–"

Before I could finish the sentence, Toby's lips were on mine, cutting me off mid-sentence. I smiled against his lips, feeling myself surrender to his advances. His hands skimmed up my sides as he slipped his tongue into my mouth in a French kiss, and I realized that he wanted to make love. My body tingled at the temptation, to have his warm, naked body rubbing against mine. To feel him inside me, firm and deep…

I pushed away the sinful thoughts. I couldn't have sex with him now, no matter how badly I wanted to. I had to meet with Aria and the others to talk to Lesli.

I pressed my hands against his chest, unwillingly pushing him away. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I really have to go."

"I haven't seen you in days," Toby sighed.

He slid his arms around my waist and kissed me again, pulling me in close to him. I parted my lips beneath his, sucking on his bottom lip. The baby kicked against my stomach excitedly from hearing the sound of Toby's voice. I realized the true meaning behind his words, and my stomach fluttered with butterflies. I wanted to make love with Toby so badly.

"I know," I said in between kisses, and held his face in my hands. "And I really wanna catch up and I wanna hear all about your police seminar." I stroked his chin with my thumbs affectionately.

Toby pressed his forehead against mine while keeping his arms wrapped around me tightly, staring longingly into my eyes as I spoke.

Maybe tonight?" I asked hopefully.

"Hmm," he murmured sadly. "I'm working."

I ran my hands down his chest, feeling a pang of disappointment. I really wanted to be alone with him, just the two of us. Just then, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked down at my phone's screen. I had a new text message from Aria. I quickly clicked READ:

Where are you?

"Spence, what's going on?" Toby stared probingly into my eyes, making me feel as though he could see right through me.

"Hmm? Nothing." I met his sincere blue eyes and my stomach tightened nervously. I hated lying to him.

He looked concerned. "Did something happen when I was out of town?"

"No," I said nervously. "Nothing."

Toby didn't look convinced. He looked at me with a serious expression, the smile gone from his face. He could tell I was lying, and I knew that he knew.

"No," I stuttered. "I decided that I was gonna write the valedictorian speech and Aria offered to help me, so she's waiting on me right now." I showed him the text on my phone.

Toby narrowed his eyes at me disbelievingly. "We don't do secrets. You and me. We tried that before Tanner knew about A and…" His eyes softened. "We practically fell apart. I just don't wanna go back to that." He rubbed my shoulders affectionately.

I gazed up into his eyes. "Neither do I, okay?" I leaned forward, closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips against his.

I could feel his lips moving against mine enthusiastically in response, and I lost myself in the kiss. I lavished my tongue with his, soaking him up, wanting to kiss him more. I sighed in content.

"Okay," Toby said gently. "But we still have to talk about it."

"We will," I murmured against his lips. "But later."

Toby stroked his mouth with mine, deepening the kiss as he removed my grey knit cardigan. I lingered my lips on his, then slowly trailed them along his cheek to his neck. He moaned and tore open my indigo blouse, making me gasp.

I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in my hands with a sudden hot passion that I hadn't known existed inside of me, and tugged it off over his head as we blindly stumbled up the stairs. I didn't even remember how Toby and I made it up to our bedroom from our passionate haze of kissing. We grabbed at each other's bodies, itching to rip our clothes off.

Toby hastily unbuttoned my jeans, and I yanked off his. All that was left now were his boxer briefs, which clung to him tightly. It made something far below my navel quiver.

I pressed my hands against his bare, muscular chest and slid down, kissing his body. Toby growled and dove for my chest, cupping my breasts as he kissed me there. The sheer-pink lace bra only covered the lower half of my breasts, nearly exposing them.

He pressed his lips against the side of my breast and sucked, rolling his tongue across my skin. I released a deep moan. Then Toby kneeled down in front of me and slowly moved his lips all over my body, brushing his fingers along the lace of my bra cups as he did so. I couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped through my lips.

He ripped off my bra from the front clasp, flinging it across the room, and I let out a wild gasp. This didn't feel real. He was going to touch me; we were going to make love. Scorching hot, wild, passionate sex.

Toby grasped my hips and I rose up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Then he gently threw me onto our bed, crawling on top of me. I quickly reached for him, kissing him desperately.

Toby deepened the kiss with his velvet tongue, grazing his teeth against my lips. He kissed the corner of my mouth, trailing his lips down my throat, in between my bare breasts, and then down to my stomach. He started to suck deeper, moving further down my body. The sweat prickling along my skin gathered at my belly, quivering fiercely with every touch of his lips, and my navel arched towards him without any control of my own.

He stopped at the lower waistband of my matching lacy pastel-pink panties and kissed the skin there, teasing me. I whimpered, my insides knotting together in sexual frustration, tightening and bunching up. It was driving me insane.

I grabbed fistfuls of the sheets in my hands and groaned fiercely. Toby tugged down the sides of my undies and kissed my hips, licking me, exploring. He sucked on me, swirling his tongue along my hip to my lower navel. Panting heavily, he slid his hand further underneath my panties and down to my butt, gently squeezing and stroking my cheeks.

Toby teased the lacy fabric slowly across my rear until they disappeared beneath the sheets. My heart pounded. When I was butt naked in front of him, he enveloped me in his arms and I wrapped my legs around him, feeling incredibly turned on.

My hands slipped underneath his boxers, easing them off. I slid my hands down to his butt and squeezed gently, holding on as he moved against me; they felt so muscular and firm in my hands. The sensation of Toby's body rubbing up against mine was so wonderfully sinful and sweet at the same time.

I dug my nails into his buttcheeks, causing him to let out a deep, loud groan. The sound made my nipples harden. My entire body buzzed from his wet, bare skin against mine. I fantasized about what Toby would do to me; I needed him inside me.

I grabbed his face with my hands and kissed him wildly, twisting my tongue with his hotly, exploring every inch. Toby tangled his fingers through my hair softly, exploring down my body slowly and deliberately. I closed my eyes and moaned. All of my senses had electrified, brought to life by the intensity of our passion and turning primal.

Toby hitched my leg up higher to his waist and squeezed my thigh, hardening against me. The feeling of his body so close to mine lit me up. I knotted my fingers through his soft hair as I felt those sweet, luscious lips sucking on the side of my neck.

He rubbed his hands slowly against my bare breasts seductively, feeling them with his soft, sensitive fingers and moaned with pleasure. My belly burned hotter than the sun, vibrating my skin with ecstasy.

He folded his lips over my inner thigh and started to suck deeply. I trembled beneath him, quivering from the anticipation. I threw my head back against the pillows and moaned. He felt so good.

My lips parted in a sigh of pleasure when Toby moved his tongue slowly and gently all around my lower body, getting me wet. My legs shook with need as he rubbed his naked body fiercely against mine. Oh, I wanted him inside me. I wanted to lick every inch of his delicious skin, feel him devour my body.

Toby leaned down and pressed his lips to my breasts, sucking on me. I growled and arched my back against the mattress animalistically. I couldn't control the wetness that strengthened past my lower navel and quivered in between my inner thighs. Something delicious and sinful twisted below my belly, threatening to explode.

I was so wet that the sheets had become slightly damp. His hand glided up my inner thigh and he squeezed gently, making me ache.

I felt myself grow wetter inside, more intense. He was almost there. A long agonizing yearning burned through me slowly, filling up every inch of my body.

'Toby," I breathed. "I'm ready." I bent my knees wide apart at his hips, succumbing to him.

Toby slid down my body to lick along my stomach, then sucked my hips and navel. My lips trembled with desire. I wanted him so badly. He sucked on me for what felt like long, glorious ages. Finally, he folded his lips over my thigh and started to suck slowly and deeply.

Then Toby pressed me gently against the mattress and slowly moved all the way inside, giving me gentle strokes. Once he entered me, I didn't want him to stop. I groaned, feeling the full length of him fill me up. He heaved against me slowly, but firmly. Every inch of his body hardened, twitching in restraint.

Our bodies were thick with hot sweat as we thrusted. I was suddenly overcome with the strong, impulsive desire to lick the sweat off his abs and chest. I started to lose control, so I immediately threw my legs around Toby's back and flipped him over.

In one swift motion, I crawled on top of Toby, shoving him hard against the mattress. I slid my hands up his chest hungrily and growled, causing a deep groan to erupt from his throat. I dove for him, kissing down his chest, taking my time. I licked all over Toby's yummy abs, then moved my lips along his hips, digging into his lower navel. He tasted like candy. Toby moaned fiercely.

When I was finished, I straddled his hips and sat on top of him, embracing his body with my legs. I began to move hard and fast against him, like jumping. I yelped and screamed with every thrust. Finally, I let loose, giving it all to him. I didn't hold back as I jerked rapidly on top of him.

Toby held onto my hips, groaning loudly. The bed squeaked from our movements.

"You're hot, you're hot!" he cried.

I quickened my pace on top of him, rocking my hips fluidly against his, gasping and whimpering with each thrust. The deeper he moved inside, the more excited I felt. We moved against each other swiftly like rabbits, groaning with desire. I was thrusting against him so hard that my hips were bouncing off his.

Toby groaned again and hardened inside me. Millions of tiny sparks flew up in between my thighs and settled just below my navel, and then I felt the sweet release as he took me there.

I clutched onto his shoulders, panting hard. "Yes, yes, yes, yeeesssssss!" I screamed.

I gasped and captured my mouth with his. Our tongues touched and collided in a heated, blind passion, mingling and twisting as we stroked each other's mouths hotly. In that instant, Toby slid his hands up to my hips and threw me over onto my back with a deep growl. I yelped, overcome with excitement.

I slipped my tongue into his mouth, losing myself to him. Toby deepened the kiss and slid himself in deeply, arousing my desire. A thousand thrilling emotions crashed into me all at once with a shot of intimacy.

Every inch of my skin felt charged. I could feel every touch of his fingertips on my bare skin, hear every thrum of our heartbeats. Everything was heightened and intensified. I felt Toby's lips on my face before they even met my mouth. I let out long guttural moans, unable to control myself.

We were rolling around in the sheets like crazy, our bare skin pressed together like magnets. I didn't want to stop touching him. Toby rolled me over, and he was on top of me again. The sheets covered only his butt, leaving his exposed, sweaty skin. We'd been going at it for three hours and I still wasn't finished with him.

I clawed at his muscular back as he moved on top of me, moaning heavily. "I need you," I sighed.

He smashed his mouth back to mine, breathing hard. I tangled my fingers through his hair, roaming my hands all over his arms and back.

Toby groaned and rubbed his feet against my legs sensually. I moaned deeply in response. He was so sexy; he was like a tiger in bed.

I bent my knees wide apart at his hips and opened my legs for him, giving him silent permission to enter me again. I felt my limbs melt as Toby's entwined with mine, feeling the familiar, wonderful sensation as he moved against me.

He inserted himself in deeply, jerking me against the mattress. It made me scream out in pure pleasure, and I dug my nails hard into his back.

Toby let out a low, deep growl. I didn't want him to stop. He was so good and satisfying. I wished this morning would never end and we could go all night. The sheets had fallen off the bed in a haphazard heap on the floor with the comforter, and now it was just the two of us making love on the mattress.

Toby kissed my neck and shoulders as he thrusted into me, trailing his lips in between my breasts. I wrapped my legs tightly around his back as he made love to me, desperate to stay close to him. We were both panting from the scorching heat burning between us, magnifying our animalistic passion.

I tugged at his hair and groaned, needing more of him. He moaned and sucked on my neck.

When we finally grew too tired to go any longer, Toby pulled me into his arms, holding me. I rested my head against his chest and nuzzled into him contentedly. After a moment, he reached over the bed without letting go of me to wrap the comforter over us.

I rubbed my hand across his chest affectionately and smiled up at him. "Good morning."

Toby smiled back and tightened his arms around me. "Mmm, morning." He kissed my hair, lingering his lips there a few seconds longer as if he was absorbing my smell.

I kissed his chest. "I missed you."

He brushed his lips against my forehead. "I missed you more." A whisper of a kiss traced my cheek.

I closed my eyes and sighed happily, unwilling to move. "This is perfect. I want to stay like this forever."

"I love you," Toby whispered. "You have no idea how hard it's been to be away from you for so long."

"I love you, too." Unconsciously, my hands curled and uncurled against him. He pressed a hand to my hair, stroking my locks while I drifted off. I never felt safer in the world than I did when I was in Toby's arms.

Toby

I felt oddly elated as Spencer and I walked up the steps toward the front door of Mona Vanderwaal's house, and it had everything to do with the fact that we'd just made love; she hadn't let go of my hand since we'd left the loft. After Spencer received a mysterious text message on her cell phone from Aria, she'd insisted that I come with her to meet with her friends and Mona, and rushed me out the door without bothering to change first.

Spencer was strangely vague about the urgency of the call, but I didn't want to push her. I knew how stressed out she was about Tanner for not solving the case of Charles DiLaurentis and her abduction sooner.

When we were finally let in by Mrs. Vanderwaal, Spencer and I quickly reached the stairs to Mona's bedroom, kissing and touching each other greedily. I slid my fingers underneath Spencer's shirt, making her giggle, and I connected my mouth back to hers. As we came to a stop at the top of the stairs, I heard voices from inside the room. It sounded like someone was arguing with Mona.

Spencer pushed the door open while keeping her fingers interlocked with mine. Hanna stood across from Mona with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. I was so absorbed in Spencer that I didn't notice Aria in the room at first, looking warily at a bookshelf filled with rows of vintage porcelain dolls.

"Where the hell were you?" Hanna demanded.

"I got here as fast as I could." Spencer began playing with my fingers, touching my hand lovingly. I moved my fingers slowly against her skin as I rubbed her hand in mine.

Hanna took in our disheveled clothes and messy hair, and gave us an annoyed look. "What's with you two? You guys are acting like two lovesick puppies."

Rather than answer her, Spencer clung to my waist and leaned into me, stroking my chest affectionately. I smiled down at her giddily and nuzzled into her neck, kissing it as I bathed in her warm, delicious skin. She laughed that cute, little carefree laugh that I loved so much, and I felt myself mimicking the sound. It was easy, natural, effortless. Just like it always was with Spencer.

I rubbed my nose against hers and grinned. The corners of Spencer's lips turned up into a huge, happy grin that touched her eyes as she pressed her mouth to mine. I kissed her back enthusiastically, winding my fingers through her hair.

Mona glanced down at Spencer's very noticeable, protruding stomach bulging from beneath her dress and Mona's eyes grew wide. I slid my hand over her large baby bump protectively, trying to shield it away from Mona's prying eyes.

Spencer parted her lips beneath mine and sighed, not seeming to care that there were other people in the room with us. I gently pulled her closer to me and rubbed her back affectionately, running my hands all over her body. She was making me feel so frisky that I yearned to back her against the wall and tear off her clothes. We couldn't stop touching each other.

" _Hello!_ " Hanna shrieked. "Earth to Spencer!"

Spencer unwillingly broke the kiss, resting her head on my chest. "Hmm?" She had a dreamy look in her eyes.

"We were supposed to talk to Lesli, remember?"

Spencer looked around the room, breaking out of her dream-like state, and turned back to Hanna and Mona with panic in her eyes. "Where's Lesli?"

"Probably got eaten by one of her rats," Hanna said sarcastically. Mona looked up from typing on her Blackberry and shot Hanna a disapproving look.

I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion, growing more concerned by the second. Lesli Stone, one of Mona's oldest friends besides Hanna, was a girl who spoke as a witness during Alison's trial for killing Mona, which later had been revealed to be a fluke when it was discovered that she was actually alive. And when the lawyer defending Mona's case asked Lesli point blank who she thought would want to hurt Mona, she lied on the stand and insisted Alison did, throwing Hanna and her friends under the bus in the process. I didn't want Spencer anywhere near her.

Spencer glanced over at the other side of the room, where Aria was busily rearranging one of the porcelain dolls on Mona's shelf so that it wasn't facing towards us. "Aria."

Aria turned to her. "What?"

"Leave the doll alone."

Suddenly, someone's phone started to ring. The tension in the room was so thick that I could practically hear Spencer's heartbeat pounding against my chest. I held Spencer tighter and stroked her arms, resting my cheek against her head.

Mona looked down at her phone. "Oh, Lesli just texted me. She said she's made a lot of progress with her stability and she thinks that this sort of confrontation might set her back."

Spencer stared at her in angry disbelief. "Unbelievable!"

"Tell her to get her ass over here or I'll show her a confrontation," Hanna threatened. She gritted her teeth, fuming.

Aria picked up her bag from Mona's dresser. "Come on, field trip."

When Mona gave her a look, Aria said, "Lesli knows who Charles is, and you know where that bitch lives. Let's go."

I jerked my head up from the mention of the familiar name. The hushed whispers, the urgency of meeting here at Mona's house. Spencer wouldn't just stand around waiting for Tanner to figure out who had kidnapped and tortured her. When she wanted answers, she got them. She was going to try to find Charles herself. An unsettling, nervous sensation twisted in the pit of my stomach.

 _Spencer, no_. I couldn't let her do this.

"No one's going anywhere," Mona told the girls. "Lesli isn't lying. That girl is one lost marble away from a major breakdown." She took a deep breath. "Look, I–I swear, Lesli doesn't know anything else. If she did, she would tell me and I would tell you."

"The night that Bethany and Charles escaped from Radley, you were with Alison," Spencer accused, pulling out of my arms. "Ali told us."

Mona looked away guiltily.

"You picked her up on the side of the road," Spencer went on. "You took her to the Lost Woods. So maybe you saw somebody. Some guy who could have been Charles."

I touched her arm gently. "Spence."

"I wish that I did, but no, I didn't see anybody else," Mona answered, and she seemed to be telling the truth for a change.

"What about at Radley?" Aria questioned. "Someone you talked to stole the A game from you while you were there. That is what you said."

"I–I know I did," Mona stammered, "but I was on so many drugs, I didn't even know who I was talking to. I mean, half the time I thought I was being haunted by Ali. The other half of the time I thought I was auditioning for _American Idol_."

I held Spencer's hand in mine and squeezed gently. "We need to talk."

"Okay." She glanced briefly at Mona and the others, and then squeezed my hand back. "Come here."

Spencer led me out into the hall and turned to face me. It was deafly silent from the other side of the door.

"What's going on?" I asked her suspiciously.

"It's nothing," she replied quickly.

I recognized that desperate, trying-to-hide-it look in the deep brown depths of her eyes and it scared me. I loved her so much. I knew that Spencer wouldn't be hiding something from me if it wasn't serious.

I stared at her. "Spence."

Spencer's eyes were careful. "There's just something going on with Lesli that I have to deal with."

I frowned deeply. "Why? What does she have to do with any of this?"

"I can't tell you," she said quietly.

Her words stung. It hurt that she wouldn't trust me with the truth. "Don't you trust me?"

Spencer stepped closer to me, taking my hands in hers. "Of course I do. I trust you more than anything. I love you."

"How can I help you if you won't tell me?" I asked helplessly.

Spencer sighed in exasperation. "You don't always have to protect me."

"Yes I do." I gazed deeply into her eyes. "It's my job to protect you."

She slid her hands up to my face, stroking my cheeks. "I have to take care of this first, okay?"

I clenched my jaw, annoyed. "Spencer–"

"Do you trust me?" Spencer interrupted. Her brown eyes were penetrating as she looked at me pleadingly. I couldn't resist her.

"You know I do," I answered automatically.

"Then let me do this one thing first. And then I'll explain everything later."

Spencer's evasiveness only made me more suspicious. Why would she lie about Lesli Stone? And how did Lesli know Charles?

I let out a long sigh. "Will you promise to tell me everything after you're done?"

"I promise." She pressed her mouth to mine, lingering her lips for a few seconds longer. "I'll call you later."

"Bye," I whispered sadly. I stared at her worriedly as she hurried away.

I stood there for a few minutes before I could leave. Slowly, I felt my frustration melt away. It was hard to stay mad at Spencer for very long. Fighting with her was like fighting with an angel. A very stubborn, independent angel that seemed to attract danger wherever she went.

I had to protect her. I had no choice.

As soon as it grew dark out later that evening, I stepped out of the loft and headed towards my parked police squad car sitting behind The Brew. I unlocked it with my car keys and slid into the driver's seat. All day I couldn't stop thinking about Spencer, worrying about her safety. Before I could start the ignition, my cell phone rang from the car's cupholder. LORENZO flashed across the screen.

I picked it up and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Toby," I heard Lorenzo say on the other end. "Where are you?"

"I'm coming over to the station now," I answered. "Why?"

"We just got a report from the State Police," he said. "Jonny still hasn't been caught. You need to get here as soon as possible so we can figure out the best way to protect Jess Clarke."

Fear prickled on the back of my neck. "What about Jess? I thought Tanner and the rest of the deputies had a search party for her?"

"She's still in hiding, and her file states her as being a runner. If Jonny threatened Jess, she might be too scared to come forward."

I grimaced. "Okay. I'll be right there." I hung up.

By the time I finally pulled into the police station, the parking lot was half empty. I walked in through the front doors and down the hall to the left towards the conference room. Halfway down the hall, I could hear the bustle of activity from the long tables assigned to juvenile detention, burglary, auto theft, robbery, and homicide as the detectives wrote down reports. And down the back hallway was where the jail was located.

I opened the door to the conference room, where Lorenzo and Lieutenant Tanner were intensely discussing something, which I could only assume was the Jonny Raymond case. A thick manila file with Jess' name on it sat in the middle of a long, cherry-wooden oval table. In the center of the back wall was a crime map with red strings connecting the suspects to one another, along with crime scene photos and evidence. I stopped when I noticed Detective Holbrook's name written in one of the notes. Why would Holbrook be involved with the case? He had been suspended from the RPD for interfering with Alison's polygram test results just six months ago.

Tanner looked up with a stern expression on her face when she heard me come in. "Toby, thank you for joining us."

I said nothing and sat down in the chair next to Lorenzo.

"As I was telling Lorenzo, Jonny Raymond still hasn't been found. Our search party will need to be increased if we wish to protect Jess Clarke. I want every police officer patrolling the area to look for Jonny. I already have the State Police searching outside of Rosewood for him. Until he is caught, Jess needs to be watched twenty-four seven. Jonny Raymond is extremely dangerous and needs to be brought in immediately." She looked from me to Lorenzo. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

Tanner looked satisfied. "Good." She opened up the file folder and showed us a color photo of a tan Volkswagon van, the exact one Jonny used to drive. "This is the vehicle that Jonny was last seen driving. Track down the license plate number and then report back to me."

"How are we supposed to protect Jess if she's still nowhere to be found?" Lorenzo questioned.

"Because of this." Tanner pulled out some black and white surveillance photos from inside the file and slid them towards Lorenzo and I across the table. "We have surveillance photos of Jess Clarke being in Rosewood. These were taken just a few days ago."

I picked up one of the glossy photos and examined it. The date number printed at the bottom right far corner showed that the pictures had been taken only a few days ago, and in each one Jess was alone and hidden beneath the cover of night, wearing a dark hoodie pulled up around her head. But there was one photograph that stood out from all the rest.

It was a close-up photo of Jess standing outside of the Harwick College building in Philadelphia and she wasn't alone. Right next to her was a handsome, sweet-looking boy with sandy blonde hair. He hovered a few inches taller than Jess, and his arms and chest were well-toned like an athlete. The boy was leaning in towards her and he had his mouth pressed firmly against hers. Jess' eyes were closed, but the muscles around her face were tense, as if she wasn't expecting to be kissed. I was instantly struck by something familiar about the boy that she was with, but I couldn't place him. I put the photo onto the table and turned my attention back to Tanner.

"I have an officer bringing Jess in for questioning this evening," she told us. "He'll be monitoring the polygraph test while she's being asked questions about her connection to Jonny Raymond. And I don't want her to leave until you make sure that every one of her answers is accurate. We need to know everything we can about him."

Tanner handed Lorenzo the file, and we walked out of the conference room to one of the offices on the opposite side of the lobby to trace Jonny's license plate number from his car. The office was small and dim, lit only by a few yellow overhead lights. Desks sat in the center of the room with computers in rows for uploading criminal records and witness reports. And file cabinets ran along the wall in the back of the room.

I pulled over a chair next to Lorenzo at one of the empty desks as he typed in the license plate number into the computer system. The Rosewood Police Department had a software program called, APLR, for missing or stolen vehicle information tracking. The license plate on the car had a censor that could be tracked through a satellite GPS on the computer, showing the current location. Once the license plate and car registration was uploaded into the program, it wasn't hard to find. You just had to know where to look.

After a few seconds, the computer screen opened up to a satellite grid of a map in Colorado. A blinking red dot dropped somewhere in Aspen, indicating it as the exact address of the vehicle.

"Got him," Lorenzo said. "He's in Aspen, Colorado."

I frowned. "What is Jonny doing in Colorado?"

"He must have been desperate. Once we get the FBI out there, he'll have nowhere else to run."

Something still didn't feel right to me. "But isn't that where Jess went for rehab? Why would he be hiding out in the place where it all started?"

"Maybe he's got some secrets of his own," Lorenzo guessed.

Lorenzo pushed some keys on the keyboard to print out the computer file and got up to retrieve it from the printer. I wandered over to the wall of file cabinets and opened the drawer labeled D. I found the file on Charles DiLaurentis and pulled it out. Inside was a copy of Charles' birth certificate and medical records. I had to think of Spencer first. Tanner wasn't going to solve the case before Charles pulled the rug out from underneath Spencer and her friends again. Lorenzo joined me a minute later, the computer printout in hand, and grabbed Jonny's file from the R drawer.

"You got the DiLaurentis file?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I answered.

I walked out of the room, and Lorenzo followed me outside of the office to my desk near the break room. While we studied the contents of the file, the rest of the police officers were scrambling around the Rosewood courthouse and the Bucks County prison, hoping to locate Jonny Raymond's whereabouts and get more information about Jess. But it was becoming clear that she didn't want to be found. Jonny had her too spooked to speak up.

I sat down at my desk and paged through Charles' file, skimming over the details of the description and address for the property where the Dollhouse was built. I stopped when I found Charles' medical records from Radley and read them over carefully.

According to the doctor's notes in his file, Charles was admitted into Radley Sanitarium when he was seven years old after attempting to drown his baby sister, Alison, in a bathtub. He came in with multiple personality disorder, but was later diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder. He was there for eleven years until he was accepted into UPenn University. The first few pages contained countless information on Charles' illness, including medical notes written from his doctor, but there was nothing after that. No death certificate, no evidence whatsoever that Charles was dead or alive.

Finally, I came to a page titled, _Possible Theories_. Below that, a list of police theories were handwritteninto a column about how Charles' obsession with the girls first started and what his motives were.

I started reading the summary of details in Charles' case and all the evidence that was found, and was instantly struck by how everything seemed to come back to his fascination with dolls. It stated on record that Charles had attempted and committed murder to seven different people fatally. The first victim was Garrett Reynolds, an old friend of Ian Thomas from high school, killed on the Halloween train back in October. About a few months after that, the attacks started up again with Aria and Spencer, when he tried freezing them to death in a flash freezing storage room and then nearly killed Emily by crashing a car into her house.

The attacks stopped when Spencer, Aria, Hanna, Emily, and Mona were captured. In every incident, dolls were involved and there was always some form of "punishment" directed towards Spencer and her friends, as if he was trying to teach them some sort of lesson. Shocking devices were found at the Dollhouse crime scene that was used to enact cruel, twisted games on the girls.

Every piece of evidence that was found wove into an intricate tight little web, which only seemed to get more tangled with every question answered. Tanner's conclusions described Charles as being brilliant, dangerous, having feelings of jealously, and distrustful of those around him while suffering a fragile mental state with no support system. It seemed that the only connection between Charles and Alison was his determination for revenge of having the life that he wanted.

They were just small details, but it was always the little things that were the most important. The ones that were left out, unnoticed. Charles had to have gotten sloppy somewhere.

I was going to save Spencer from this monster, one way or another.

Jess

I woke up to the sound of the heart monitor beeping close by Payton's hospital bed late Monday afternoon. I was curled up on the purple vinyl chair, wrapped in a blanket that I'd taken from the linen closet. When I opened my eyes, Payton had fallen asleep, breathing steadily.

I looked at the monitor and watched as the flatlines across the screen zigzagged. It remained elevated–for now. I wanted to cry.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and Jason walked in, his hair tousled and out of place. My heart jumped inside my chest. "Jason," I breathed.

"I came as soon as I heard." There was a soft, deeply concerned expression on his face when his eyes found me.

I quickly crossed to the other side of the room towards him and threw my arms around his neck. Jason held me tighter as I rested my cheek against his shoulder, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He smelled like pine and eucalyptus.

I closed my eyes. "I'm just glad you're here."

I didn't want him to let go of me, and that was very dangerous. I couldn't feel this way about him. I could never betray Ali like that. After I found the strength to pull away from Jason, I walked back over to Payton's bed and sat in the chair.

He sat down right next to me. "So how's Payton doing?"

Reading my quizzical expression, Jason replied, "Alison told me. He looked bashful.

We were so close that our knees were practically touching and made my body warm. Jason reached over to take my hand in his, as if to reassure me that he was here for me. He stroked his thumb across my skin in small circles, turning my insides into goo.

The feeling of his warm palm pressed against mine ignited a spark that jolted through me, but a strange aching throbbed inside my chest. It was a mixture of pain and joy. Did he not know what he was doing to me? Did his heart race every time I walked into a room just like mine did whenever I saw him? Did he feel the same way about me?

He rubbed his fingers over mine gently, slowly moving down to trace over the lines in my palm. A shiver trembled through me. I caressed Jason's hand in mine in response and started to play with his fingers, feeling his warm, soft skin. A surge of happiness bubbled over and filled me up, something I thought I'd lost a long time ago.

Jason met my eyes and smiled, and my heart fluttered. He was so beautiful, it was hard to believe he was real. I didn't want to leave him, but I knew someday I would have to. I couldn't risk any more people getting hurt if I stayed. The realization punched me in the gut.

It was then that I noticed something red and square poking out of Jason's jeans pocket. I pointed at it. "What is that?"

Jason let go of my hand and the moment was gone. "Nothing."

But I could feel his worry. "Jason."

"I don't want you to get hurt." His blue eyes had darkened and looked wounded as they bored into mine.

I reached out again to cover both my hands with Jason's. "You can trust me."

"It's not you I don't trust," he said. His face turned stone cold, still brooding.

"Who is it?" I asked. "What do they want?"

Jason pulled out a small, square-shaped bright red envelope with his name written across the front in clear and precise script. I opened it up and looked at the card. Inside was a birthday invitation handwritten in red sharpie. It was decorated in a rainbow and fluffy white clouds, and colorful balloons were floating beneath it. Someone had filled in the spaces where the location and theme of the party was:

Who: Charles DiLaurentis

What: Birthday parTy!

When: Tonight

Where: 72183 Wallaby Ave

RSVP: Come Alone or noT AT All

Only the Ts and As were capitalized. It was A's signature.

I looked at Jason in alarm. "When did you get this?"

"This morning," Jason answered. "And it came with this." He showed me a small, plastic blue frog toy in his hand.

"You can't go," I told him. "It's too dangerous."

"I don't have a choice."

"What do you mean you don't have a choice?" I demanded, frustrated. It almost made me angry how impulsive and reckless he was being.

"This is my only chance to see Charles," Jason said.

"It could be a trap," I argued.

"He's my brother," he responded.

"A brother who kidnapped and tortured your sister's friends," I reminded him.

Jason sighed. "Jess, I have to do this."

"No, you don't." I clenched my teeth, the heat of my anger filling me. How could he be so stupid? The thought of Jason getting hurt made my chest tighten.

Finally, his fingers closed around my hand, squeezing my fingers. "Do you trust me?" He unleashed the full power of his gaze on me, almost making me forget why I was so angry in the first place. Almost.

"You know I do," I finally answered.

"Then trust me on this now," Jason murmured.

He leaned his face in close to mine and it looked like he was going to kiss me again. I couldn't think straight with my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His warm breath tickled my cheek. He was too close. I couldn't deny the feelings that Jason's touch evoked, but this was dangerous.

Jason trailed his fingers along my cheekbone and then slowly brushed them over my lips. I sighed softly against his fingertips. I didn't know I could feel this way about anyone before.

When Josh touched me, I felt a sense of comfort with flickers of tiny sparks that flowed through me. It was like a million butterflies were rocketing recklessly inside my stomach. But with Jason, he swept me away into a tornado of emotions, leaving me breathless and wanting more, giving me the primal urge to be closer to him. There was no thought or sense of control, only the invisible cord that connected us. The way his bare, sensitive fingers touched my skin ignited a fire that burned slowly through me, consuming every inch of my body, making my heart pound. I could never be close enough to him. Jason made me feel safe, yet alive at the same time.

"You can't feel this way about me," I whispered.

"It's a little late for that," Jason breathed.

My heart thudded, the soft touch of his fingers on my skin causing hot flames to spread through my entire body. I couldn't feel this way about him. I couldn't love him.

I bit my lip and considered telling him about A. Jason traced the shape of my lower lip, sending quivers through me.

Jason's eyes were very soft. "What is it?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine." I was suddenly compelled to tell him the truth once again. Unconsciously, my left eye twitched, a habit I'd been known to do whenever I fibbed.

Jason cocked an eyebrow at me disbelievingly. "I've known you long enough to know when you're lying."

I looked up at him in surprise. "How could you know when I'm lying?"

He smirked. "Your left eye twitches whenever you lie. You've been doing it ever since we were kids."

I groaned. _Fantastic_.

"Jess, what aren't you telling me?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A is back. He took the game from Mona after she was sent to Radley."

I waited as Jason's expression changed from puzzlement to understanding.

"There's more," I went on. "We think that A and Charles might be the same person.

Jason frowned. "What?"

"A was your imaginary friend. He's trying to punish you and Alison for what your dad did to him. And that's why you can't meet him tonight." I eyed him carefully, hoping he wouldn't overreact. But Jason looked worried.

"That's exactly why I have to," he said determinedly. There was a protective edge to his voice.

I felt my throat constrict in panic. "Jason–"

"I'm not letting him anywhere near you." His blue eyes were steady on mine. "I could never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"Jason, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into," I said.

"A tried to kill me in an elevator, so I'd that say I do. Why didn't you tell me that Charles was A?"

Unwanted tears filled my eyes. "Because I was scared."

Jason furrowed his brow. "Scared of what?"

"Of you getting hurt. Everyone and everything I touch gets destroyed." The tears started to stream down my face. I looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

"Jess, look at me," he said gently.

I kept my eyes shut, shaking my head. "I can't."

Jason put his index finger under my chin, forcing my face up toward his. He held my eyes. My skin cackled from my toes to my head, awakening something inside of me that I hadn't known existed until now. Before either of us could move, I heard a knock on the door.

"Jess?" someone said. Josh entered the room, wearing a dark blue denim jacket and black converse sneakers. I'd almost forgotten; he'd offered to drive me to Rosewood High School for the entrance exam.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked me. His eyes fell on our interlocked hands.

I reluctantly pulled my hand away, craving for Jason's touch. "Yeah." I forced a smile, trying to act as normal as possible, hoping Josh couldn't see past the façade.

With that, I got up and turned away from Jason, feeling his longing gaze on my back as I walked out. I forced myself to keep going in spite of the painful ache tearing at my insides from having to walk away from him once again, heading toward the hospital's moving glass doors. Josh sidled up next to me, trying to keep pace with me.

"Is everything alright?" he asked as we walked.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him. "Yeah."

Josh's eyebrows furrowed into a deep V, not seeming to believe me. But to my relief, he didn't press me on the matter.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood outside of the classroom on the first floor of Rosewood High, waiting for the exam to start. The halls were dead silent and thankfully nobody I knew was inside the school at this hour.

I stared down the long hallway that seemed to stretch for miles. How many times did Alison walk down these halls? How many years did she spend ruling the school? How would she feel about me taking over her life and her friends like this? I could feel the worried lines crinkling in my forehead, which always happened when I cried. I tried to smile, but my mouth remained frozen in the same scowl. _Pull yourself together,_ I scolded myself. _You can do this. You can play the charade of someone else._

I had to, at least until I could figure out how to defeat Charles. I'd pulled it off the night at the science lab, but that had been before I'd known Charles implanted a microchip into the back of my neck. If what Payton said was true, how could I figure out to stop Charles? He was unstoppable, yet he was so threatened by my presence that he went to extreme measures to bring me to Rosewood.

Josh came out of the room then and spotted me leaning against the lockers. "I talked to the teacher. She said there was some sort of bug with the computer system, so it'll be another thirty minutes before we can take the test."

"Okay," I said nervously. A ball of anxiety tightened in the pit of my stomach.

Normally, I could take tests easily, no problem. I knew high school exams and quizzes like the back of my hand. But today, I couldn't even conjure up any SAT vocabulary words in my head or calculate the square root to pi. The thought of going into that classroom and taking the entrance exam made my stomach churn. Why was it now that I suddenly couldn't seem to congregate verbs?

Josh saw the distressed look on my face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

He knew me better than that. "I've never known you to be nervous."

"Just distracted I guess."

"You're going to do great," Josh tried to assure me. "You're the smartest person I know. You've got this. And I'll be in there with you."

I thought of Yale, and everyone and everything else that seemed to determine my future. "What if I can't? What if there's no way out of here?"

Josh caught the meaning behind my words and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Look, we have thirty minutes to kill before the entrance exam starts. How about we study in the library until then?"

"Okay," I said slowly.

I looked around as I followed Josh down the hall on the right, noting the eggshell-white walls, the linoleum floors, and the tan bland-looking rows of metal lockers on the left and right of me. Along the far wall were framed photos of the homecoming and prom queens hall of fame, and there colored papers of school activities tacked onto a corkboard nearby the opened hallway doors. As I continued through the school, I noticed a pretty girl in one of the homecoming pictures. Her long, shimmering blonde hair was pulled up into a loose, wavy bun and a familiar beautiful smile stretched across her face. The girl's eyes were round and blue, and her lips were pink and full. Hanna Marin.

A gold plate underneath the photo read, _2011_ , and I knew this must have been taken her junior year. It felt strange to see someone I barely knew having sleepovers with Ali, taking shopping trips with her, and kissing boys without me in a life that didn't belong to me.

Josh and I turned around a corner and entered the library next to the computer lab. Inside, it was empty and quiet. Worktables were arranged around towering bookshelves in the spacious room. It was larger than our school's gymnasium back home; I'd never seen so many books in my life.

We found a table in the back of the library in the secluded science section where nobody ever went and sat down. I set down my dark-blue oversize shoulder bag onto the table while Josh shrugged off his jacket, revealing a black and grey checkered shirt with the long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing his broad shoulders. His shirt outlined muscles he'd gotten from playing on the baseball team back at our old school in Ohio.

He caught me staring and I quickly looked away, flushing. Josh smiled at me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe things could finally go back to normal.

Josh grabbed a chemistry book from one of the bookshelves. "So what do you want to start with first? Chemistry?"

"Sure," I replied, not really caring which subject we did. I just wanted to get this over with.

About half an hour later, Josh and I sat at the table with books scattered around us. "When you mix CH4 with 202, you get…" Josh trailed off.

"The displacement reaction of carbon dioxide and 2H2O," I answered.

He grinned. "You got it."

I smiled back. "All thanks to you. What would I do without you?"

Josh lifted his sparkling blue eyes to mine. "I told you I'd help you. I'll always be here for you."

A calm, comforting sensation washed over me. How could I ignore the way I felt about him when I enjoyed being with him so much?

I sighed. "I don't know what happened. I used to be great at math. It's like my brain just shut down."

"You just lost your focus. It happens."

I found my thoughts drifting back to Jason, of the way it felt when his fingers touched my lips, and my heart lurched. Why was I thinking about someone I knew was off limits? And why did it have to hurt so much? I scribbled down some more notes in my notebook, trying to tell myself that I could do this. I'd studied the material inside and out.

"Jess?" I heard the echoing of Josh's voice as I was thrust back to reality.

I turned my eyes back to his. "Hmm?"

He squeezed my arm gently, warming my skin. I tried to keep myself from looking at him, but his eyes caught mine. Josh stared at me, as if he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. I stared back, unsure of what any of this meant.

He pressed his hand against the side of my face, sending tiny sparks through my body. Maybe there would never be anything romantic between us, but I couldn't deny the familiarity and safety it brought me when Josh touched me.

"I really want to kiss you again," he whispered. "I haven't been able to think of anything else since then."

I pulled away slightly, feeling uneasy. This was exactly what I didn't want. Josh was one of the most important people in my life, but if I crossed that line with him I could lose him forever, and everything else.

Josh looked away, dropping his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay," I said. "I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me anything. We used to be able to tell each other everything, remember? That was one of the great things about us."

Josh looked into my eyes. "We still do."

"No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend. And I'll always be your Jess." But he seemed determined to define our relationship and blur the lines between us even more.

"So what happens next?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered quietly.

I thought back to what Payton had said in the hospital about how I was the only one who could stop Charles, and all the terror and despair came hurtling back. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to stop him, afraid of feeling helpless to protect my friends. What if Payton was wrong? What if I didn't have the strength to fight Charles?

I shook my head, on the verge of tears. I couldn't do this. I had to do whatever it took to save the people and this town from Charles' plan, but I had never lived that way. I wasn't used to people caring about me, of anyone looking out for me. I'd only ever taken care of myself and I didn't know how to do it any differently.

Josh reached over to take my hand. "Hey, you'll defeat A, just like you've done everything else. You've stopped A before. You found A's lair, you stopped them from exposing Aria's secret and killing Toby."

"A was a she then. How am I supposed to go up against Charles?"

"Payton said you're the one who can defeat Charles, so you will."

I looked at him skeptically. "And what if I can't?"

"You're stronger than him," Josh said strongly, "you are. You're the strongest person I know."

Then without thinking about it, I pressed my lips to his. I felt Josh's lips move against mine in surprise. His hand cupped the back of my head as he kissed me back and he slid an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I didn't resist. I curled my fingers through his hair, unable to help myself. My heart sped up from the sweet taste of his lips against mine.

Finally coming to my senses, I pulled away abruptly, breaking the kiss. "I'm so sorry," I gasped. "I shouldn't have done that."

Josh leaned back and blinked, looking dazed. "Jess, it's okay."

Guilt gripped me. I shouldn't be kissing Josh when I was thinking about Jason, especially when I was so muddled about my feelings for both of them. I still had no idea what I wanted.

"No, this isn't fair to you," I said. "I'm just so messed up right now."

"Then I'll wait, as long as it takes." He stroked his thumb over my palm, and my breath caught in my throat.

I was too stunned by my reaction towards him to respond. I thought about running, but I didn't want to pull away either. I couldn't explain the confusing emotions knotting up inside of me.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." I pulled back and quickly grabbed my bag. I fled through the library's doors, hot tears trickling down my cheeks.

"Jess, wait," Josh called.

But I kept walking. I didn't stop until I reached the classroom marked 117. As I crossed through the doorway, I saw a clipboard with a signup sheet attached that was sitting on the teacher's desk at the front of the room. Someone had written PLEASE SIGN IN AND TAKE A SEAT in bold chalk on the blackboard. I noticed there were some signatures already scribbled on the sheet.

I wrote my name down on the signup sheet, feeling eyes on me. I kept my head down, trying to ignore the stares and whispers of the people in the classroom as I walked down the aisle and fell into a desk at the back. It wasn't hard to guess what they were talking about. I was a popular topic of whispered conversation here. The friend of the popular former queen bee, Alison DiLaurentis, had arrived in Rosewood at last. So of course I must have been a devil child just like her. I was the mystery girl from a small town, a freak.

I turned my eyes away, annoyed. The gossip of my stay would last weeks.

Some of the kids turned to stare at me with recognition in their eyes, some fearful. I sighed. I felt like such a fraud, enrolling myself in a school when I had no intention of graduating. The only reason I was going to a school like Rosewood High was to search for answers. Normally I would talk to Josh about this, but things had been so weird between us lately.

After the rest of the students found their seats, a red-haired woman wearing a warm blush-pink blouse and a navy blue pencil skirt strode into the room. She wrote _Ms. Sheppard_ on the board beneath the writing, drawing a line underneath.

Ms. Sheppard picked up a stack of papers from her desk and started passing out our admittance exams. Josh slipped into the seat next to mine, his eyes on me. A few of the other girls stared at him in curiosity. I could feel his concern burning into me, but I didn't dare look at him. Instead, I fumbled around in my bag for a pencil and stared intently at the material on the exam.

I finished the exam within several mind-numbing minutes of staring at the clock, but it wasn't enough to distract me from what was happening. I got up from my seat and walked up to Ms. Sheppard's desk to get my completed test scored. After she pulled out the test from the OMR scanner, she gawked at my answers. I ducked my head bashfully, my cheeks flushing crimson. I was used to getting high marks in school, but I preferred not to draw attention to myself when it came to my grades. It just seemed so boastful.

"Congratulations," Ms. Sheppard said, handing me back my test. "You passed. You are now a student at Rosewood High School." She smiled at me brightly.

I smiled back faintly. "Thank you."

I held the completed exam to my chest and turned down the hall. As I headed toward the Rosewood High exit, I saw a familiar dark-haired guy approaching me and I grimaced. _This cannot be happening_.

It was Gabriel Holbrook, the police officer who'd released me from jail when Josh had paid for my bail. The police badge attached to his belt gleamed, and he wore a long sleeved light blue button-down shirt and black pants.

"If you came here for missing school zone signs, I left them alone," I said dryly.

The corners of Holbrook's lips pulled up into a warm smile. "I'm not here for the signs, but I'm afraid I have to bring you in for questioning."

"That wolf made me swerve on the road, okay? I wasn't drinking."

His eyes turned sympathetic. "Actually, this is about your connection to Jonny Raymond."

My stomach dropped all the way to my feet. "What are you talking about?"

"The FBI is investigating Jonny Raymond and it shows you being one of his last ties before fleeing the country," he said.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "So?"

"We'd like to ask you some questions about what you know about Jonny."

Holbrook drove me to the police station in the back of his squad car. It was where criminals typically sat when they got arrested. I stared out the window, fuming. This was absurd. Jonny broke the law, and I was the one paying for it.

 _Just like old times_ , I thought to myself bitterly.

When Holbrook brought me into the station, Lieutenant Tanner ordered him to start a lying detector test on me to find out more information on Jonny. Holbrook escorted me into the interrogation room and then led me over to a chair next to a table with a polygraph machine sitting on top. There was a two-way glass wall where police officers watched from the other side, and a digital video camera was secured onto a tripod for the interrogator. A minute later, another cop came into the room to set up the equipment and computer so they could review and keep track of my answers. The large, burly man with buzzed black hair introduced himself as Barry Maple, the interrogator who was going to be interviewing me.

As Officer Maple strapped me in for the polygraph test, I turned my steely eyes to Holbrook. "This is ridiculous, not to mention illegal," I protested. "You arrest me in the middle of the night and then bring me in here against my will."

"Listen, Jess, I'm going to be right there on the other side of the room," Holbrook said kindly. "You have nothing to worry about."

I glowered at him. "Why do you care? You're the one who dragged me here."

"You are not a suspect," he assured me, "Jonny is. All you need to do is tell us what you know about him. I'll see you in a few minutes." Holbrook turned and walked out, vanishing into the other room.

"We're going to ask you a series of questions that we know are true," Officer Maple informed me. "And I will ask you questions that we don't know. Your heart rate will indicate whether you're being honest or not."

My heart pounded. I didn't want to do this. For an entire year, I'd kept my horrible secret hidden from the rest of the world and now it was all going to come crumbling down. Every lie, every moment, every answer would be sliced open in the split of a second.

Officer Maple sat down at the table and opened up the laptop. "The sensors connected to you right now will detect the change if you lie and if you tell the truth," he continued. "Do you understand how it works?"

I nodded.

"Are you sitting down?" Barry asked me.

"Yes," I answered.

He pushed a couple keys on the computer and the polygraph machine made a beeping noise.

"What color is your shirt?"

I looked down at the shirt I was wearing, a twisted forest-green racerback tank top paired with black cutoff shorts. "Green."

"State your legal name," Barry said.

I took a deep breath and answered truthfully. "Jessica Sophia Clarke."

"When were you born?"

"December 7, 1994."

"Are your eyes brown?"

"Yes."

Then he asked me the most startling question yet: "Does your father hurt you or have violent tendencies?"

I froze in the chair, feeling the blood slowly drain away from my face. They had no reason to bring up my father. Holbrook was the only person I'd told about him. I glanced at the glass mirror in betrayal, piecing it all together. How could he? I thought that I could trust him.

"Yes," I finally answered. My voice shook with fear, and the machine shrieked in repetitive loud beeps.

In the lobby room of the police station, I sat in one of the plastic chairs against the wall after Officer Maple had instructed me to wait until Holbrook came out to release me. I glowered down the hallway's door to the right–where I'd just spent a long, grueling two hours answering ridiculous questions about Jonny and my father–livid beyond belief.

Was Holbrook too much of a coward to come out and face me that he had to hide behind a glass wall? What he did was such a betrayal and so absurd. I was too angry to think straight. My first thought upon leaving the interrogation room was walking back to Rosewood High School to get to my car and drive back to Ohio. Nothing could be worse than this. But then I remembered who was waiting for me back home and I cringed.

I still couldn't believe it. How could Holbrook–someone I barely knew–do something like this, lock me away in a room like I was his prisoner? Besides running down the Rosewood town sign, I hadn't done anything wrong. Why did he have to make Jonny's case more complicated than it was? Did he realize the people he was putting in danger by bringing me in? The first few questions during the lying detector test had seemed harmless enough, until Officer Maple started asking me about my father. It had suddenly dawned on me in that moment that Holbrook had asked him to question me about my dad for the polygraph, and there was a second where I was frozen in fear. Sure, I had problems with my dad back home, but I wasn't about to broadcast it.

Gritting my teeth, I shot up from my seat and marched into Detective Holbrook's office, slamming the door shut behind me.

Holbrook looked up from the papers on his desk as I glared at him.

"You told them about my dad?" I accused.

He stood and raised a hand in an attempt to calm me down, which only made me even more furious. "Jess–"

"How could you do that to me?" I demanded. "I thought I could trust you!"

"You can trust me."

I looked at him icily, trying to decide if I was more hurt or angry at the way he'd betrayed my trust. "Well, obviously I can't since the whole world knows now what my dad has been doing to me."

Holbrook folded his arms over his chest. "Those bruises on your arms aren't from Jonny Raymond."

I looked down at the purplish bruises on my upper arm in disgust, scars from when my dad laid his hands on me. I thought I'd covered it thoroughly with foundation. There were two others on my collarbone and the left side of my stomach, but they were almost fully healed now and barely visible.

"So you decided to take it into your own hands and ruin my life?"

"I'm not trying to–"

"He's going to come after me now!" I shouted. "Don't you get that? Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

Holbrook stepped forward and I hated the sincere empathy on his face, like he felt sorry for me. "Jess, your father would be investigated whether or not Officer Barry asked you those questions. If he's hurting you, I'll protect you."

"You're not my father," I spat.

He said nothing. There was a moment where I thought I saw hurt in his eyes, but I quickly brushed off such ridiculous thoughts. It was as if Holbrook didn't care how angry I was. He didn't regret what he did.

I stormed out of the room, determined to have nothing more to do with him.

After I made it back to my car in the high school parking lot, I pulled the Honda Civic into traffic, driving past the rows of charming craftsman-style houses and straight towards The Brew. I had to see Payton, but if I didn't get my daily coffee fix of the day, I was going to explode. Today had easily been one of the worst days of my life.

I walked inside the familiar coffee shop and stepped up to the counter, contemplating about ordering an apple Danish to go with a French latte. I hadn't eaten all day and the dizziness was already rushing to my head, making me feel irritable. I didn't think my low blood sugar would be able to take it.

To my relief, the café was relatively full, but I ducked my head nether less, hoping that no one would pay any attention to me. I didn't want to risk exposure. As I waited in line, trying to pretend that the hushed whispers were about the much anticipated prom that was quickly approaching, I saw Hanna and Spencer sitting at one of the tables in the back, talking quietly under their breath. The air around them was tense, and I wondered if it had anything to do with Charles. They were so engrossed in something on Hanna's laptop that they hadn't even heard me come in.

I hesitated, considering if I should go talk to them. Looking at Spencer and Hanna more closely, I could suddenly see why Ali chose them to be her best friends. It wasn't just that they were beautiful, but their clothes were stunning too, some of which resembled designer labels. They were _the_ girls of Rosewood. With their flawless good looks and taste in fashion, it was no question how Spencer, Aria, Hanna and Emily were able to stand out from everyone else. Compared to their perfection, I looked plain and unordinary. I would never be accepted as one of them.

Finally, the line in front of me moved. As I stepped up to the front counter, a pretty blonde with clear, light blue eyes and high cheekbones stood in front of the cash register. She had her long, dirty blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, and the nametag on her shirt identified her as Sabrina.

"What will you be having?" she asked me in an enthusiastic voice. Her energy was so contagious that it was hard not to feel happy around her.

"Um, just a latte and a Danish," I told her.

She punched some keys into the cash register and it made a loud dinging sound. "That's four fifty-eight."

I pulled out my wallet from my purse and handed over a few dollar bills to her. "Keep the change."

"Hey, have we met before? You look sort of familiar." Sabrina studied me carefully, as if she could find the answer somewhere on my face.

I tore my eyes away from hers, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "No," I mumbled. "I'm not from around here."

My heart sank when Sabrina's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh yeah, you're that girl from Ohio. You're all anyone's been able to talk about since you arrived."

I grimaced. I was afraid it had been something like that.

Sabrina smiled. "Oh, don't worry, I don't sell pot. It just helps with my migraines. But I can share some of it if you'd like."

My cheeks flushed red. "W-what are you talking about?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Ezra told me that you had a problem with certain prescription medication."

Chills slithered down the back of my neck. "You mean Crack."

"Look, I'm not here to judge you. But I've found that pot takes the edge off when I'm feeling stressed, so maybe it can help you, too."

"I'm fine," I said curtly. "Thank you."

I was so angry that my keys fell to the floor as I shoved the Danish pastry into my bag. After I bent down to get it, Sabrina was wiping down the counter casually, acting as though she hadn't just tried to offer me drugs. Then I grabbed my latte and turned on my heel, fuming. Ezra telling Sabrina about my former drug addiction was so outrageous and vile, I could barely comprehend it. I felt so violated, like a million spiders were crawling all over me.

I thought about how Ezra had lied to everyone, including Aria, about not knowing Ali all so he could write a book about it to expose her and I grew even angrier. He knew things about everyone, and who was to say he wouldn't try to expose me like he did to Ali? I didn't trust him and I never would. I stomped over to my car, still processing the extent of Ezra's manipulation.

I parked nearby the hospital's main entrance twenty minutes later, walking through the automatic doors on the fifth floor shakily. I found Payton in his hospital room, already changing back into the fresh pair of clothes that Ali had brought him. I rolled my eyes. It was just like Payton to be too stubborn to accept treatment.

I slammed the door behind me, using the full force of it to capture his attention. Payton turned around, saw me standing there, and sighed in irritation. "I suppose you're going to try to stop me from leaving."

"You were nearly beaten to death," I pointed out. "You need to stay in the hospital so you can heal."

"The only thing I need is to find the bastard that did this," he said stubbornly.

I stared at him in disbelief. "If you go out there right now looking for Charles, he'll kill you. This is suicide."

"Maybe, but I don't have a lot of options. I can't risk Charles hurting you or Ali, not again."

"Seems there's a lot of that going on around here," I noted glumly, thinking about Jason.

Payton frowned. "Is there something I should know?"

"No." I looked away, not wanting to discuss it any further. There was no need to worry him about Jason's insane idea to meet his psychotic older brother.

He paused. "Listen, there's something you should know. Alison and her friends are planning to catch Charles tonight. They're meeting at the same place where he's trying to meet Jason."

I sank down into the purple fabric chair and put my face in my hands. A heavy weight settled over my chest. This couldn't be happening… _again_.

"I'm taking it you already knew," Payton said.

I looked up full of despair, finding his eyes. "I know that Jason wanted to meet him. I just don't understand how he can be so stupid."

"Jason is doing this because he's trying to protect you." He looked at me meaningfully.

I sighed and looked out the window, my brow creased with worry. "I don't want him to get hurt. When this is all over, I'd rather he be in one piece." I turned back to him, suddenly suspicious. "Wait, how did you know Ali and the others were going to set up Charles?"

Payton didn't answer right away. "After you left, I woke up and Jason was here. He was asking me questions about Jonny and…" He hesitated.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I told him how you, Ali and I tried to trap Jonny."

"You told him?" I shrieked.

"He was worried about you," he said calmly.

"How could you tell him that?" I demanded, fuming. "You of all people understand what that means. You're practically handing him over to A by telling him about Jonny."

Jason couldn't know about Jonny's involvement with A. That would put him directly in A's warpath that not even Toby could protect him from.

Payton rolled his eyes. "You're being a little melodramatic."

I glared at him. "No, I'm not. Charles is dangerous, and Jason is on his way right now to see him."

Payton's eyes turned gentle. "Jason isn't the one I'm worried about."

"Well, don't be. I'm a big girl now–I can take care of myself."

"A wasn't using his family as target practice then," Payton argued.

I turned for the door, ignoring him.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"To find Jason. Someone has to stop him before he gets himself hurt." My heart wrenched at the thought of him being alone with Charles.

"And how are you going to do that? You know Jason has a blindspot when it comes to his family."

"I'll figure something out." I tried to sound brave, but on the inside I was shaking.

"You shouldn't do this alone," Payton said.

"Where are they meeting Charles?" I asked, grabbing my bag off the bed.

"Jason said it was in this warehouse nearby the Mortimer West Plaza Hotel on Wallaby Avenue. But Jess…" He caught my arm as I turned to leave.

I whirled around. "What?"

"Be careful." His eyes were stern, but still gentle.

I gave him a small smile. "Always am."

Then I strode out of the room, hurriedly reaching for the elevator bank. I was in such a rush that I didn't see the person inside when the doors finally opened.

"Going down?" a voice asked.

I lifted my eyes to the guy's face and nearly groaned in annoyance. Wren stood next to the elevator's rows of buttons, wearing his white doctor's coat. He stared at me, seeming just as surprised as I was. Although I knew it was impossible, I had the impression that he was actually happy to see me again, which made absolutely no sense.

Wren smiled brightly at me. "Hey, it's you."

I pressed the number one button for the first floor. I couldn't help but question his friendliness. "I thought you doctors were supposed to save lives."

"I'm on my dinner break," he said. "Twice in one day. It must be fate."

"I wouldn't call it fate."

"What would you call it then?" he teased.

Finally, I turned to him. "A creep who hits on teenage girls. It's a small town and you work in the only hospital in Rosewood."

Wren laughed, seeming unphased by my insult. "I noticed Payton's made a fast recovery."

"Yeah." I stared at the moving digital numbers on the screen above as the elevator went down, willing for it to go faster. I didn't want anything to do with him.

"I was just on my way to The Brew. Why don't you join me and I'll get you a cup of coffee?" His face was open and interested.

"Not a chance in hell."

"Okay. How about tea?" Wren offered hopefully.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and I quickly stepped out without looking back, making a fast getaway. It was almost 5 P.M. when I emerged in the parking lot. I didn't have much time before Jason was going to leave to meet Charles.

I was going to save Jason, whether he liked it or not.

Several minutes later, I drove down the DiLaurentis's driveway and climbed up the front steps. There were no clouds tonight, only the brilliance of the full moon glowing above me and the stars that shone against the dark blue sky like tiny jewels. It was the first night of the full moon–the realization brought my skin alive.

Except for the neighbors' dim porch lights along the street, there was nothing to guide me through the darkness. An eerie sensation went through me and it felt as though I was being watched. I glanced back at the tall hedges that divided the DiLaurentis's and the Hastings' house. No one was there.

Shivering, I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I lightly pushed against the wooden double door and it creaked open. Inside, the rooms were dark except for a few lamps sitting on living room tables.

"Hello?" I called. "Jason?"

I stepped hesitantly into the house and turned down the hall. As I passed the living room, I noticed a red balloon in the corner by the window and my heart dropped down to my stomach. I was positive it had to be from the birthday card that Charles sent Jason.

I walked through the opened French doors slowly. There was no light but the moonlight bathing in through the window outside. The walls were painted a light, sky-blue and the cherry oak dining cabinet held delicate china plates. Everything about the room exhibited elegance and old money, from the antique oil lamps high on the walls and the velvet upholstery on the wingback chairs, to the Persian Oriental rug on the dark hardwood floor.

I moved over to the window and took the balloon's string in between my fingers, my hands trembling. There was nothing attached to the balloon to indicate anything had been left by Charles, but a dreadful feeling still coursed through me.

"Jess," a guy's deep voice said, making me jump.

I spun around, feeling startled. Jason stood in the middle of the living room in faded blue jeans and a black and grey crew neck T-shirt that was unbuttoned at his collarbone, emphasizing the muscles in his arms. Something told me that he wasn't happy to see me.

Jason folded his arms across his chest, his lips pressed together firmly. "What are you doing here?"

I stepped away from the balloon. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

I withdrew a breath. "I wanted to talk to you about Charles."

He looked at me with a hard expression. "You're not exactly in a position to tell me what to do about my brother considering you also tried to meet with Jonny alone."

I gaped at him in astonishment, at a loss for words.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" His steely blue eyes flashed, angry.

"No, because I knew you would run in there and try to be the hero, and it would've ruined everything."

"Somebody should. What were you thinking?" His voice rang with disbelief and a tinge of frustration.

"I was thinking that I was trying to keep my friends safe," I shot back.

Jason stared defiantly back at me. "He could've killed you! You may not care about your life, but I do."

"You think I like lying to you?" I snapped. "I don't."

"There never should have even been a plan," he said protectively.

"Why are you so mad?" I searched his eyes, trying to understand his strange behavior.

"Because I love you."

The words left his mouth so suddenly that they stunned me into place and I couldn't speak. I stared back at him in confusion, disbelieving at what I'd heard him say. It didn't feel real. He loved me.

We both fell into silence, neither one of us saying anything for a moment. The only sound I could hear was my heart beating fast and hard against my chest. Then, as Jason stepped closer to me, the light from the full moon illuminated his face and fell onto the floor around us. I could barely breathe. He looked moonlit and irresistible.

Jason held my face in his hands. "I'm in love with you, Jess. I always have."

My breath caught in my throat as I felt it again, the strong, magnetic force that was pulling us together. The invisible cord vibrated stronger than ever, linking us, and it felt like he could see right through my very soul. Jason leveled his eyes with mine, gazing deeply into them. I couldn't seem to look away from his powerful, mesmerizing gaze, as if I was under some kind of love spell.

"Don't," I whispered, my eyes filling with tears. This was too much.

"No." His eyes were filled with an emotion that made my knees grow weak. "I'll never stop."

The walls around us disappeared, and then it was just the two of us and the moonlight, drawing us closer like magnets. Jason's eyes were wonderfully intense, smoldering. It felt as if I could fall into them. It would've been so easy to give myself up to him, to allow myself to give in to this wildness. But this was wrong. We couldn't do this, no matter how I felt.

"Jason," I breathed. "We can't…"

Before I could react, Jason pulled me in towards him and then his mouth was on mine, unable to deny it any longer. His arms held me against him as he pressed his lips down firmly on mine. It felt as though my heart was connected to his and I could feel every beat.

Jason's lips were soft and warm, and surprisingly tender. He stroked his mouth with mine slowly, exploring. I parted my lips in a wild gasp as our lips smashed together and I couldn't stop. Jason caught my lower lip in between his teeth and bit down on it gently, groaning.

I should have pushed him away, should have run. But instead, I knotted my fingers through his hair and crushed my mouth against his. He slid his hand around my lower waist, caressing my lower back where a tiny bit of bare skin lay exposed between the hem of my shirt and shorts. Jason parted my lips and slipped his tongue beneath, deepening the kiss.

Something hot and electric cackled in my veins, sending powerful showers of sparks through my body merging with his. My heart pounded. I could feel his arms around me, strong and warm, keeping me safe like an anchor.

It wasn't until this moment that I understood what _forbidden love_ truly meant. It was this, wanting someone so much, but knowing it was wrong despite how good it felt to be with them. My eyes were still closed when Jason finally pulled away. I lifted my eyes to his in wonder.

"We can't do this," I said in a heavy voice.

"Why not?" Jason's face twisted with confusion and hurt. _Please don't make this harder than it is,_ I thought.

"Alison," I said pointedly. "My best friend, your sister."

"I know, but Ali has nothing to do with this," he said, and I knew that he meant it. We'd gotten so caught up in the moment that our betrayal hadn't even crossed his mind.

"You can make up a million reasons about why we shouldn't do this," he went on, "but you're forgetting something."

I frowned at him. "What?"

"This." Jason slid his arm around my waist and pulled me against his body and he kissed me again, making me lose all coherent thought. I was swept away by the intoxicating taste of his lips, melting into him. I trembled in his arms from the intensity of our passion. Nobody had ever made me feel this way before.

Jason brushed his lips along my cheek, still kissing me. My body felt hot and wild from the heat we made together. My lips parted in a sigh and I looked up at him, dazed. He pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged, seeming to know what I was thinking without me having to express the words to him. There was a new closeness between us, something more intimate and deeper. It was something more.

But despite this wild abandon I felt for him, I was no longer afraid. Because I knew I could trust him. Everything became so simple then, and I knew nothing would ever be the same again. I saw it clearly without Jason having to say it out loud. I _knew_ him. What I felt for Jason wasn't just the chemistry between us. It was a pure love and a sweet tenderness that was so strong that it made me shake uncontrollably inside. It was so intense that it scared me. And I couldn't fight it anymore.

The missing part filled in the hole inside me as if by magic, giving me a sense of comfort and completeness. Jason was my home. Everything I had gone through was leading me to this, to him. Why couldn't I see it before? And why did I keep trying to run away from him? I didn't have to be afraid anymore.

And then I remembered.

A feeling of pure horror shocked through me, waking me up. _Oh God, what have I done?_

I pulled away from Jason sharply. "No," I said, feeling the guilt eat away at me. "Oh, God."

Raw anguish swept over me in revulsion, hating myself for what I'd just done. How could I have been so stupid in letting this happen? He was Ali's brother. How could I have done this to her? Ali, whom I loved and who trusted me.

Alison and Jason may not have always liked each other, but they loved each other. Jason was her brother, the last connection she had to her family, and I was going to take that away from her. There was no coming back from this. I'd kissed my best friend's _brother_.

And there was Josh. I loved him, too. I couldn't deny that. I knew that as surely as my own heart. The special bond between Josh and I that drew us together in the first place was strong and true, something that could never break. How could someone be in love with two people? I couldn't imagine my life without him.

But I couldn't live without Jason, either. A deep ache throbbed inside me, torn by the two boys I loved.

"What are we doing?" I whispered.

"I don't know," Jason admitted softly.

"I can't hurt Ali." The pain of emptiness, the loss, was growing stronger. "She's like my family, Jason. I can't lose that."

"I get that." Jason's eyes were sincere, understanding. "But I can't pretend that I don't love you."

My heart melted. "It doesn't matter. This can never happen again."

Tears threatened to flow down my face and I could feel his agony mingling with my own. I couldn't tell him how I really felt, no matter what happened. And no matter what either of us felt for each other, I would never betray Ali.

Without saying another word, I turned and hurried out of the house.

"Jess!" Jason called.

I kept running without looking back at him. Then I got into my car and quickly peeled out, not wanting to give Jason a chance to run after me. I headed toward the cabin, crying the whole way there.

Spencer

"Wait, so you just left?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, walking back over to my spot on the plush filled chair across from Hanna. "I couldn't just stand there and keep on lying to his face."

It was the late afternoon, and Hanna and I were sitting around her laptop in the lounge area in the far corner of The Brew, discussing how I'd lied to Toby once again about what was really going on. About a foot away, Sabrina was busily placing coffee mugs on a platter for customers, completely oblivious to our conversation.

I'd left Toby at Mona's house so quickly because of another lie and he knew me well enough to notice when something was wrong. The guilt had been gnawing away at me all day. I _hated_ lying to Toby, but I didn't have another choice if I wanted to keep him safe from A. After we'd patched things up the night before Ali's trial, we promised each other that there wouldn't be any more secrets between us and I'd vowed to myself not to screw things up again. And after being back with Toby these last few weeks, we seemed to fall even more in love and we'd been closer than ever.

"I mean, Toby knows me," I continued. "He knows I'm not just sitting on my hands waiting for Tanner to figure this out." I leaned forward in my chair. "He's right, Hanna. We are exactly where we were two months ago."

"Yeah, except now we have hardware in our necks," Hanna sighed. "God, we're like Cyclops."

"Cyborgs," I corrected. I rubbed my hand against the back of my neck uncomfortably, feeling the lump of the microchip, while Hanna typed something on her computer.

"I'm pretty sure it's pronounced Cyclops," she disagreed stubbornly. Hanna stared at the computer screen and frowned. "God, that's weird."

"What?" I asked in monotone, my mind elsewhere.

"That scholarship I got from the Carissimi Group, it's not listed in any of the usual websites." Hanna squinted at the screen. "And their homepage looks like it's some sort of an investment firm."

I peered over at the laptop. The site announced itself as _The Carissimi Group_ in the top left corner in modern, sleek script. In the center of the screen was a picture of someone in a business suit pressing one of the digital touch buttons on an interactive computer screen. Early that morning, a non-profit organization who called themselves the Carissimi Group, sent Hanna a three-hundred million dollar check in her name for her college tuition. The same charity that Jason had recommended to his mother, Jessica DiLaurentis. And since her dad refused to help pay for college, Hanna had been more than delighted to accept it.

I pointed to a series of tabs on the right corner of the webpage. "Just try that community tab."

Hanna clicked on the tab that said, COMMUNITY. The page loaded quickly, describing the organization's investment holdings, which they used to create projects in their strong ties to other companies.

"Doesn't say anything about a scholarship." She clicked on another tab and a new page popped up, showing a list of all the companies that the Carissimi Group worked with. My eyes fell on one of the names at the top of the page, Radley Sanitarium.

"Hanna." I leaned over the keyboard and pressed the mousepad to zoom in, sharpening the name.

Recognition shot through me like several tiny alarm bells ringing in my ears. This wasn't the first time I'd seen the Carissimi Group's name. It was at Radley, when they were destroying all of the patient files after shutting down. Radley didn't get bought out from the company until after we escaped the Dollhouse–that _couldn't_ have been a coincidence. I stared at the words, a dreadful thought seeping into the center of my mind. What if the Carissimi Group was how Charles had been getting all of his money for the last two years? He could've used it to pay for the equipment to build the house.

"Wait, that's where I saw this name before. in Radley." Hanna paused, confused. "I don't get it. Why would the people who paid to shut down Radley pay for my tuition?"

Chills slithered down my spine. Something about Hanna's tuition money didn't seem right. I searched my brain for an explanation, but came up blank. Did it have to do with Mrs. DiLaurentis? She was on the board with Radley and she knew Charles was still alive. If Mrs. DiLaurentis was funneling money into the company, then she was probably building a secret trust fund for Charles.

I repeated the name over and over in my head, and recognition sparked. _Carissimi_. It stood for beloved in Latin. It had been right there in front of us this whole time and we didn't even know it.

"Beloved." I said the words out slowly, the familiarity rolling over me.

Hanna looked up. "What?"

"That's what _carissimi_ means in Latin," I explained. "Beloved."

"As in, Charles, beloved son?" she guessed.

"You said that Jason told your mom about this scholarship? What if Mrs. D's favorite charity was also her oldest son's bank account?"

Hanna clasped her fingers together and brought them up to her mouth, shaking her head. "The owner has to be listed here somewhere."

My cell phone rang on the coffee table, indicating that someone was calling. The screen read, CALLER UNKNOWN. I picked it up and pressed my phone close to my ear, but all I could hear was white noise.

"Hello?" There was some fumbling and then I heard someone's voice on the other end. It sounded far away. "I…I'm sorry, I can't hear you. Um, who is this?"

I moved away from my spot on the chair to get a better phone signal and sat down on the metal staircase leading upstairs to the loft. "Hello?"

"Can you hear me?" It was Alison.

"Ali?" I said.

"I'm at a hotel," she answered. "My dad drove me in the middle of the night. He hid my cell phone, his car keys. I'm stuck here. The only reason I was able to see Jess at hospital was because he waited for me outside."

"Ali, I need to tell you something," I said urgently.

"Charles is alive." I could hear the fear in her voice. "He threatened my dad. He tried to kill Payton. He said he's coming home for his birthday."

"His birthday?" I frowned. "Wait, who's Payton?"

"Today, Spencer," Ali said. "My dad called Jason and begged him to leave the house. But he's determined to see Charles, no matter how dangerous it is."

"Okay, and your dad didn't think to tell any of us?" I asked, annoyed.

"Charles isn't after you. Not this time. But if Jason tries to meet him…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Then there was a knock on the door. "Alison," Mr. DiLaurentis said.

"Just one minute, dad," I heard Alison say back.

"Where's my phone?" Mr. DiLaurentis' voice rang out again. "Did you take my phone? Whoever you're talking to, you hang up now!"

"Ali?" I whispered.

"I've got to go. Please, talk to Jason and be careful." Ali abruptly hung up. I stared at my phone's screen, an uneasy feeling settling over me.

Minutes after Alison called me at The Brew, I sent Aria an S.O.S. text, telling her to come with us to talk to Jason before he tried to meet with Charles tonight. Around junior year, when Ali was still presumed to be dead, Aria had a huge crush on Jason despite the fact that she was with Ezra. Aria was the only one who could knock some sense into him.

I rolled up to the curb, and Hanna and Aria got out. Alison and Jason lived in one of the bigger Victorian houses in the tree-lined neighborhood, across the street from where Toby used to live. The DiLaurentis' home had eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a rock-lined pool and Jacuzzi with its own private sauna, a five-car detached garage, and a deluxe guest room.

I looked around. There were police cars parked out in front of the DiLaurentis house, taking the daytime patrol. There was no way A would try to hurt us here with all these cops around. Lately, it felt like they were all were watching me.

Aria, Hanna and I strode across Jason's lawn, heading for the front porch.

Hanna knocked on the DiLaurentis's front door, desperately trying to talk to Jason. "Open up! Jason, come on."

"We know you're in there!" Aria called.

"Jason, just talk to us, please." I knocked on the door again.

When no one answered, I peered through the little glass window of the DiLaurentis's double door and looked inside. The shades had been drawn, but the windows inside were lit, casting a golden yellow light. Despite the cop car that sat in front of the house, an anxious sensation tightened in my stomach. Instinctively, I rested my hands over my expanding belly, fearful for my baby's safety.

Hanna sighed. "Maybe he's not home."

Aria pointed to Jason's parked silver Volvo C70 in the driveway. "But his car's right there."

"He knows why we're here," I said matter-of-factly. "His dad already tried to get him to leave."

"You mean Ali's prison guard," Hanna noted sarcastically.

The door to the police car opened and a policeman stepped out, dressed in a heavy-down filled Rosewood PD jacket. The walkie-talkie on his shoulder cackled. "Everything okay over there?"

"Uh, yeah," I answered. "We're fine."

"Hey, have you seen Jason?" Aria asked him.

"Looks like he doesn't wanna be bothered right now," he replied simply. "Anything we can help you with?"

I forced the corners of my lips into a smile. "No, thank you."

I cast one last look back at the DiLaurentis' as I followed Hanna and Aria down the steps when something from the back of the house caught my eye. I stopped and turned, and saw a bright red balloon floating in the corner of the back window. It hadn't been there before when we'd first walked up.

And then I realized why it looked so familiar: it was a birthday balloon.

Later that same Wednesday night, Emily, Aria, Hanna, Josh, and Jess sat around the loft's living room. I handed out water bottles that I'd taken from the refrigerator to everyone.

"So you think Jason's gonna meet Charles somewhere tonight?" Emily asked me.

"Well, A's not gonna show up to Ali's house with all those cops out front, so it's probably gonna be some place outside of Rosewood," I guessed.

"I put one of Caleb's GPS trackers on Jason's car," Hanna said afterwards. "So the second he moves, we can follow him to A." She took a sip of her water.

Emily looked at her incredulously. "Follow him? We're being tracked too, remember? Charles will know we're onto him."

"That's why we have to remove our chips and leave them behind," I told her. "Our phones, anything that A could be monitoring. Charles has to think he's in the clear."

Jess and Josh exchanged a look, but said nothing.

"We can't ambush A. Charles has everything but superpowers." Emily looked around at us. "Hey, guys, listen to me. This has to be some sort of a trap. A is always one step ahead of us."

Aria looked at me uneasily. "Emily's right. Ali asked you to keep Jason safe, not to get us all kidnapped again. We need to take this to the police and just step back from it."

"Right, because the police have been so reliable so far," Josh said dryly.

"The second this goes over the police radio or an email, A is gonna know he's being followed and he's never gonna show up," I argued.

"Well, that's fine by me," Aria surrendered. "I don't want him anywhere near us."

"And I don't want him anywhere near my baby!" I yelled, surprised by the force of my anger.

"Wait, so we're just supposed to give up?" Hanna looked at Emily and Aria disapprovingly. "Let Charles keep owning our lives and keep lying to the ones that we love? I'm not gonna live like that."

"And I can't have Jonny find me again," Jess added. "A already tried to kill Payton. I'm not going to let another person suffer because of me."

"This coming from the girl who burned down A's lair," Josh said sternly, looking pointedly at Jess.

Everyone turned to stare at her accusingly.

Jess glared at him. "I thought she killed Ali, okay? And I didn't know she was Mona then."

Hanna widened her eyes. "You burned down A's lair?"

"It's not like I killed A." She turned her warm, chocolate-brown eyes on mine.

"What are you looking at me for?" I demanded.

Jess rolled her eyes. "Maybe because your sister threw Bethany into a hole." Her mouth tightened.

"Melissa didn't kill Bethany," I protested. "She buried her alive."

"Important distinction," Josh said sarcastically.

"Okay, enough," Aria said, trying to break the fight. "We have bigger issues to deal with right now."

"We'll tell Toby," I decided. "He's got a badge and a gun. He can keep us safe. We can follow Jason without Charles knowing and if anything goes wrong, he's gonna be right there."

Jess looked at me empathically. "Are you sure?"

I shrugged. "We don't have a choice."

She sighed in exasperation. "Okay, I'm really getting tired of people saying that."

When I gave her a quizzical look, she said, "Don't ask."

Josh glanced at Jess with an unreadable expression. He seemed conflicted over whether he should comfort her or back off. I'd only known Josh for a few days, but already I knew things about him that no one else outside the seven of us did.

"What about Sara?" Aria asked me. "What happens when A retaliates?"

"Aria, if this works, I promise you there's not gonna be any fallout," I said strongly. "Charles is never gonna be able to hurt us or anybody that we love ever again."

"So let's say that we go through with this," Emily started cautiously. "How the hell are we supposed to remove these microchips?"

"Well…" Jess got up from her place on the couch and walked over to the counter-topped island to pick up the tray of surgical instruments, bandages, and alcohol that she'd put together earlier. "It just so happens that I know how to remove microchips, and Spencer and Hanna have been studying videos online." She set the tray down on the coffee table.

"You can't be serious," Emily said.

Aria stared at the tray in horror. "Oh my god."

"Who wants to go first?" I asked, ignoring their wails and moans.

Aria and Emily glanced at each other nervously, and the room slipped into silence. I looked around at the others, knowing with certainty what we had to do.

Jess was the only one who seemed to know what she was doing. It was evident in the way she the cut the area on the back of Hanna's neck to carefully remove the small microchip without making her flinch. Everyone was gathered around my room while Josh helped cut out our microchips, with scalpels and small towels spread out on the enormous bed.

A minute later, it was my turn. Jess sat down next to me on the bed, leaning in close to feel around the spot on the back of my neck with her fingers to find where the chip had been inserted.

I could feel the panic surging through me. I was an anemic, but I despised needles or anything sharp going into my skin because I was so sensitive. The very sight of needles was enough to frighten me. When I was little, the nurse and my mom always had to hold me down so the doctor could give me a shot. I was so traumatized that I couldn't even move and I felt trapped. Ever since then, I couldn't stand being around needles.

Jess reached over to grab a cottonball and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. She handed me one of the towels from the tray.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"For the pain," she answered simply. My stomach clenched.

The smell of rubbing alcohol made me dizzy as Jess rubbed it into the back of my neck, and my head pounded. The scent was everywhere. I tried breathing in and out through my nose slowly.

"I'm going to put some Lidocaine on your neck first to numb the area," Jess informed me, dabbing something cool and thick on the surface of my skin. A dead, numbing sensation spread through my neck.

The towel suddenly felt soothing in my hand, and I tightened my fingers around it. I squeezed my eyes shut as Jess raised the scalpel in her hand to make a small, vertical incision down the back of my neck. It stung a little, making me wince, though the Lidocaine eased the pain.

I heard the sound of metal against the tray when Jess took a pair of tweezers and I knew what was coming next. I could feel a gentle poking in my neck while she bent over to pull out the microchip. The smell of rust and salt assaulted my nose as blood flowed from the cut, making it difficult for me to breathe. I swallowed convulsively and clamped my lips together, willing myself not to throw up.

Finally, Jess pulled out something with the tweezers that looked like a small grain of rice painted green and red. It made a soft _plink_ sound as she dropped it onto the metal tray. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then Jess rummaged through the tray for some new tools, and I was forced to look away when she picked up a needle and thread.

I closed my eyes again, my stomach tightening uneasily. The pain was gone now, but it was replaced with a horrible tugging sensation on my skin.

"All done," Jess said, cutting the suture thread. She wiped an oversized Q-tip over the wound that dripped with a syrup-colored liquid. It smelled strange and extra strong, bringing back my queasiness.

Then she taped a small piece of gauze securely in place against the back of my neck near my shoulder. Next, Jess gently stuck a Band-Aid patch over the gauze and pressed it on firmly. I was starting to feel more myself again and thankfully the nausea had passed.

I smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you for doing this. And also for being there for me about…you know…" I moved my hand down to my small, but obvious pregnant stomach.

"Of course," Jess said. "Have you decided on a name yet?"

I shook my head. "No. Toby and I went over some names, but we haven't decided which one we like best."

"Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked.

I smiled, beaming. "A girl."

Jess returned my smile. "Toby must be thrilled."

I looked away distantly, feeling my thoughts drifting far away. My mind kept returning to Toby, about what might happen to him if A found out that we were trying to trap him. The thought of having this baby alone without her father turned my stomach inside out. I wanted to talk to Jess about it, but I was terrified of letting someone else in after what happened with Jonny. After everything that we'd all been through, we still weren't getting any closer to finding out the truth. I recalled the fearful look on Jess' face when I'd asked about her dad. What was she so afraid of? What was she hiding?

"Are you okay?" Jess looked at me in concern.

"Yeah," I lied.

I saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. "Is this about Toby?"

I snapped my head back up, too stunned to answer.

"Because if it is," she continued, "I'm sure he'll be fine." Jess gently touched my arm.

"Maybe." I sighed. "It's just that I feel scared all the time. And I'm still keeping secrets from Toby after we both promised each other we wouldn't, and I don't know what's going to happen tonight." I looked down at my stomach. "I can't lose him. I can't have my baby grow up without a father." Big, hot tears spilled down my cheeks, a lump forming in my throat.

Jess studied me. "You really love him, don't you?"

My chin shook. "I do. I've loved him since the first moment I saw him. He's the sweetest guy I've ever known and he's honest, and I love him so much. The way he treats me is so…" My voice began to crack. "I just want everything to go back to normal."

"Then don't lie to him," she said softly. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have a guy who loves you that much and would move mountains for you? If you really love Toby like I think you do, then tell him the truth. Trust me, you don't want to keep him in the dark about this. Just be glad Toby's first instinct isn't to abandon his child at the first sign of trouble or slap her around."

I knitted my eyebrows together. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Jess drew out a long breath and I thought I saw some sort of emotion hiding behind her eyes for just a moment, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

I inspected her carefully. Jess was gorgeous in an artsy way, but she was oblivious about it, as if she didn't notice the effect she had on the opposite sex. And she wasn't self-absorbed in her looks like most girls were. Jess was kinder and more selfless than I thought she was. It was hard to believe that just a week ago I thought she was A.

I gave her a small, vulnerable smile. "Thanks."

Jess smiled warmly back at me. Then she picked up the tray of surgical tools and sat next to Aria on the opposite side of the bed, and immediately got to work.

Seconds later, I dialed Toby's number on my phone. "Toby, you have to come home right now," I said urgently.

"Is the baby okay?" Toby sounded alarmed.

"Yeah, she's fine. I just really need to talk to you."

"Why?" he asked.

"I can't explain it over the phone," I said nervously. "Just please come home." I rubbed the back of my neck anxiously, feeling the surgical patch Band-Aid on my skin where the microchip had been removed. Jess had added a _Frozen_ Band-Aid as well, her idea of cheering me up.

"I'll be right there," Toby replied.

I hung up and sighed, overwhelmed by the swarm of anxious feelings bombarding me all at once, nervous about tracking Jason to the warehouse, worried about what could happen to Toby if he wasn't careful. A painful searing made my stomach ache, as if my chest was being ripped right open from the anxiety that was suffocating me. I knew Toby would always protect me, but I remembered what had happened to the last couple of cops when they tried to figure out who A was. The thought tightened my nerves.

I heard Toby's footsteps on the hardwood floor in the kitchen five minutes later. When I came down, he was wearing his form-fitting police uniform and heavy Rosewood PD jacket. I eyed the gun in his holster nervously.

Toby shut the door behind him as I moved over to the stairs. I peered down the hall, checking to see if any of my friends were listening nearby. Jess and Josh were still helping cut out the others microchips in our bedroom.

"Ow!" Aria cried from upstairs, and I assumed she was getting her chip removed.

"I don't have much time," Toby said. "I'm in the middle of a shift."

Aria cried out in pain again, her voice echoing down the hall.

"Just hold still," I heard Jess say.

Toby looked towards the stairs curiously. "What's going on up there?"

"Um…"I stammered. Lying to Toby made me nervous.

"What's with the Band-Aid?" he demanded a second after. Toby stared at the spot on my neck where Jess had put the Band-Aid patch. His expression was worried.

"Just… If you could hold your questions until afterwards, that would be great, okay?" I sighed nervously. "Okay, I wanna tell you everything. I'm going to tell you everything, but I need you to promise me one thing first. You cannot tell anybody, including Tanner. At least not at first."

Toby gaped at me, his eyes widening in disbelief. "I can't promise that."

"Please, I'm not asking you for forever," I pleaded. "I'm just asking you for one night. Please."

Toby shut his eyes and sighed. When he opened them, he nodded in agreement, but his lips were pressed together tightly.

I picked up my blue shoulder bag off the floor beside the foot of the couch and dug through it, searching for the printout photo of Jason and Charles that Aria had found in Alison's house last week. It wasn't until I felt my hand graze against something plastic and crinkly that I realized it wasn't mine. Frowning, I opened up the purse's enclosure wider and saw a small bottle of pepper spray, a worn burgundy wallet, and some car keys that belonged to a Honda Civic.

I glanced over at the identical-looking blue Rebecca Minkoff purse sitting on the end of the couch in irritation. I tossed aside the small plastic bag of gummy bears and reached for my purse, pulling out the picture.

I opened up the folded piece of paper and showed it to Toby. He frowned deeply.

I pointed to the young, blonde boy on the left of the photo. "This little boy is Jason." Then I pointed to the boy standing in the middle. "And this one is A."

I handed him the picture. "His name is Charles DiLaurentis," I went on. I stared into Toby's face, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked down at me, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "Spencer, this information could have helped us. Tanner needed to know about this weeks ago."

"I didn't have a choice," I said. "A was holding a knife to Sara's throat. He threatened everybody we've ever cared about, including our baby. Please, I just need one night. If we do not fly under the radar, this won't work."

Toby suddenly reached for me, resting his hand on my big and visible belly. "You need to take it easy now since the baby is getting bigger."

I took his hand, pressing it against my cheek. "I'll be careful, I promise."

"At least rest first," he urged gently.

"Okay." I kissed his fingers.

Just then, shadows danced against the wall, and Aria, Hanna, Emily, Jess and Josh rushed down the stairs into the living room. "Jason's on the move," Hanna said urgently. "We've gotta go."

Toby raised his hands. "No, no, no. Nobody's going anywhere."

My blood boiled, flaring my temper. "Toby, I just told you. It has to be this way."

"You're not going near A or Charles, whatever that freak's name is," he said in a firm voice. "You want my help, we're doing it my way."

"No," I argued, "you can't tell Tanner. If A finds out about this plan, then–"

"I got it, Spencer," he snapped. "But if you try and follow me or go near Jason, she's gonna be my first call." Toby turned to Josh and the girls. "Who has Jason's GPS?"

Hanna hesitated. "I do. This is Caleb's burner phone." She handed him the small, black Samsung Galaxy handheld phone.

While Toby stared down at the phone's screen to look for Jason's tracker, Aria stared at the back of Hanna's neck. "Um, Hanna, you're bleeding."

"What? Where? Hanna frowned, looking over her body.

"What do you mean where?" Emily said. "Where Dr. Amateur Hour cut your neck open."

Jess turned to Emily, looking slightly offended. "Who are you calling an amateur?"

"You're lucky that's all Jess cut," Josh teased. "In bio, she dissected a frog with tweezers instead of a scalpel."

Jess punched him in the shoulder, making him wince. When they filed back upstairs, I moved closer to Toby, my body slowly filling with dread. Even with a gun, A could still hurt him. I wanted to protect Toby from A, not hand him over as bait. I wasn't going to let him risk his life for me.

I looked at Toby worriedly. "You can't do this alone."

"I'm not letting you come with me and you're not letting me call Tanner," he answered, "so alone's looking like our only option."

I swallowed deeply, my heart wrenching as I fought for the courage to let him go. I couldn't lose Toby, not knowing if I would ever see him again after tonight. It was pure torture. If the plan didn't work, he may not survive. The thought made me cry. After a moment, I stared up into Toby's eyes fiercely.

"Please be careful," I said passionately. "And you call me the minute you find Jason." My voice choked with emotion.

Toby nodded. Then I leaned in to kiss his surprised lips as forcefully as I could, like he was going off to war and might not make it back. Toby moved his lips against mine deeply. I pressed my hands roughly to his face and slipped my tongue into his mouth, kissing him harder.

"Spencer, where's your surgical tape?" Hanna called.

I stroked my thumbs against Toby's cheeks, still kissing him, as I molded my mouth against his for a minute longer, trying to prolong the moment. I kissed him a few more times on the lips before slowly pulling myself away.

I gazed at Toby breathlessly, feeling dizzy from the intensity of the kiss. He gazed back at me longingly through unfocused, half-closed eyes. His lips parted, and I knew he was as dazed as I was.

I looked at him one last time, then turned for the stairs. "I'll be right there."

Toby

Back at the police station, I sat next to Lorenzo at one of the tables in the middle of the break room for dinner, reading the book that Spencer had gotten for me to be ready for the birth of our child, _The Expectant Father_. I was already on chapter 12; I'd read it quickly over the past few days, but thoroughly. I wanted to show Spencer how serious I was taking this.

As I flipped to the next page on the baby's early months of sleep, the small red dot started to move on the GPS map that Caleb had programmed into the burner phone. I bookmarked my place in the book and drummed my fingers against the table anxiously, staring down at the Galaxy's screen. Jason was getting closer to the warehouse where he was supposedly going to meet Charles. If Lorenzo and I didn't leave now, I wouldn't be able to keep A away from Spencer.

I swallowed a handful of gummy bears from the plastic bag that Spencer had left for me at the loft and picked up the burner phone, watching Jason's tracker intently. The red dot was heading towards Wallaby Avenue near the Mortimer West Plaza Hotel.

Lorenzo looked up from his BLT sandwich. "You want some of this, or are you just gonna eat Spencer's candy all night?"

I shook my head, still chewing. "I'm okay. Hey, maybe we should swing by Wallaby Avenue. I heard there's some activity going on over there. Break-ins."

Lorenzo looked at me uncertainly. "In Sherwood?"

"Hmm," I mused.

"It's not exactly our jurisdiction," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but there's nothing going on here tonight," I said. "Those guys could use our help anyway."

After a minute, Lorenzo shrugged and wrapped up the remaining bits of his eaten sandwich and stood up. Then he grabbed his police jacket off the back of the chair and headed towards the hallway to the Chief's office.

I grabbed my jacket and moved to the back EXIT door. "Hey, come on. The car's over here."

"Yeah, and we gotta let Command know we're going," he told me.

"No, we don't," I said tightly. I stared at him evenly.

"You wanna leave our beat and not tell anyone?" Lorenzo asked, looking confused.

I looked away, glancing at the other officers lingering by the water cooler nervously. Other than the indistinct radio chatter coming from down the hall, the break room was quiet. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I wanted to tell Lorenzo about Spencer, but I was afraid if I told him the truth that A would retaliate somehow.

There was a serious, concerned look on Lorenzo's face. "Cavanaugh, what's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," I answered quietly.

The EXIT door made a click as I pushed it open. The night air gushed in, giving me goosebumps. Lorenzo glanced back down the hall, hesitating.

"Are you gonna come with me or not?" I demanded. _I'll do this alone if I have to,_ I thought.

Reluctantly, Lorenzo followed me outside. Behind the left side of the building in the back, several police cars were lined up next to each other in parking rows. Once we neared the car, I pulled out my keys from my pocket and got in. I turned the key into the ignition, then pulled out onto the street. The CB radio crackled from officers reporting various break-ins and disturbances over town as I drove.

I stared straight ahead into the darkened road in front of me with steely eyes. Losing Spencer was not an option.

Jess

That same night at seven, I sat in between Aria and Hanna on Spencer and Toby's bed as Josh downloaded the GPS tracking program onto Spencer's laptop. Emily sat at the end of the cushioned bed bench, biting her nails. Everyone was on edge, nervous about what was going to happen tonight.

In just a matter of minutes, we were going to come face-to-face with Charles. I'd told the others that I wanted to get to the warehouse early in case the plan didn't go accordingly, but I had an ulterior motive for being there. I'd come up with my own idea to kiss Jason while Josh and the girls caught Charles to distract him from hurting Spencer and her baby. But I needed to dash over to the warehouse before Jason had a chance to see him directly in order for my plan to work. And I needed to keep Spencer at a safe distance from the danger of Charles.

I watched as Spencer paced anxiously across the room, her eyes glued to her iPhone, waiting to hear from Toby. I could tell by her constant pacing that she was worried and tense about Toby being alone in the warehouse with Charles.

"Maybe you should sit down," I suggested gently.

"Toby can't call you if he's following A," Emily reminded her.

Spencer turned to her with glassy eyes. "Or if he's hurt."

That was when I saw the fear in her eyes. Toby was risking his life for her, and I could understand her worry.

"Don't go there," Aria said. "Like you said, Toby's a police officer. He can take care of himself."

The computer made a ringing sound then, interrupting them. Josh was typing furiously on the keys, his eyes focused on the screen.

"Did it download?" Spencer asked him. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously.

"Yeah, it just finished." He handed his cell phone to her, showing her the GPS map of Jason's tracker. "Jason stopped ten minutes ago. I uploaded the GPS onto all your phones."

"Caleb's not the only computer genius," I said.

Josh smiled brightly. "You hear that? I'm a genius."

I felt a slight, but carefree laughter bubbling out of me. He put his arm around me, and I rested my head against his broad chest. After everything that was going on with A, Jonny and the police, the contact felt nice.

Then my cell phone vibrated from inside my shorts pocket, making my heart jump. I pulled it out nervously, automatically assuming it was A. But the new text was from a new number–Jason's. I clicked READ.

I'll wait. Don't let Charles see you.

Josh turned his blue eyes on me. "You alright?"

I shoved my phone back into my pocket before he could see the text and smiled at him faintly. "Yeah, just a little nervous."

"Well, don't be. I'm not going to let anybody hurt you." Josh stared at me with a serious, but tender expression.

I looked into his eyes sadly, knowing that I was going to hurt him. The thought of Josh watching me kiss Jason in front of him killed me, but I didn't have another choice if I wanted to go through with my plan to stop A from hurting anyone else.

Spencer looked down at the screen of the phone that Josh had given her and frowned. "Hey, guys, this is right outside of Rosewood. He should have called me by now."

I didn't have to ask to know that she was talking about Toby. Spencer put the phone down on the bed bench and hurriedly started gathering her stuff into her bag.

"Spence," Aria warned.

"No!" Spencer snapped, thinking of Toby. "He's supposed to be our backup. Not some one-man target. And if anything happens to him…" She swallowed deeply, her voice cracking with emotion, and reached for her car keys. "I'm going."

"I'll go with you," Hanna offered. She hopped off the bed, starting for the door after Spencer.

Emily looked baffled. "Okay, I didn't let Jess perform surgery on me for nothing." She followed Hanna and turned to Aria. "Let's go."

After everyone had cleared the room, I got off the bed and touched Josh's arm. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He met my serious gaze with concern. "Jess, what is it?"

"I have to tell you something."

Josh took my hand and my pulse spiked. "You can tell me anything."

I took a deep breath, afraid to meet his eyes. "I have to kiss Jason when everyone else comes to the warehouse."

Josh clenched his jaw tightly, and I couldn't read his expression. He didn't say anything for a long time.

"Say something," I pleaded.

"You're going to kiss Jason." He said it slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. I saw the hurt in his eyes, and it felt like tiny sharp needles were stabbing my chest.

"It's not like that," I insisted. "We have to kiss to keep Charles away from Spencer. Please don't be jealous."

"And who's idea was that? Jason's?" Josh's blue eyes blazed.

"No, this was my idea. This isn't his fault."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all he's thinking about," he scoffed.

My temper flared. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you really not see it?" Josh said bluntly. "The guy is clearly in love with you."

Before I could think of something to say, Josh stormed away from me, heading for the door.

"Josh, where are you going?" I yelled.

"Does it matter?" Then he disappeared down the hall.

I heard footsteps down the stairs and then the front door slammed shut. I covered my face with my hands and the tears spilled over, feeling repulsed with myself. I deserved every bit of this. It was wrong to treat Josh like this, and he deserved so much better than a train wreak like me.

I pressed my fingers to my temple. I had to think.

Slowly, the ringing sound in my ears began to fade. There was only one thing that mattered now: going to the warehouse to face Charles and die. I had nothing for him that he wanted in exchange for Jason's life except me. I just hoped that Charles would be satisfied enough with winning the game to leave Jason and the girls alone. Despair swept through me. I had no intention of surviving tonight, but I had to try.

Sighing, I grabbed my bag off Spencer's red leather chair and started for the stairs. I couldn't get emotional about this now.

I sprinted out to my red Toyota parked at the curb, my feet crunching against the gravel. I manually unlocked the car door, threw myself into the driver's seat, and sped away from the loft. Wallaby Avenue was right outside of Rosewood, an hour or so away, and I didn't know how much longer Jason would wait for me.

I drove past town through the dark, quiet streets. I stared straight ahead, trying to stay calm. I envisioned Jason alone with Charles, the terror frozen on his face as Charles tightened his hands around his neck. It felt as though my heart was crashing inside my chest from the picture.

I made it to the abandoned warehouse in record time. I pulled up behind the back of the red brick building with a sign that said, NO TRESPASSING and cut off the engine. Graffiti splashed the walls, and broken furniture with stuffing coming out of it was tossed outside. The old warehouse must have been built in the 1900s as a countryside mansion or one of the older Victorians remodeled into an arcade center before it got shut down. It looked dark and foreboding against the pitch-black night sky. Several twisting trees and shrubs surrounded the place and a tall, wrought iron gate protected the back of the property. When I parked by the side of the road, I saw Jason standing behind the gated back entrance through the darkness and I jumped out of the car.

I slammed the door of the Toyota shut and ran towards him. "Jason!"

He turned at the sound of his name and his eyes widened in alarm. "Jess, you shouldn't be here."

I stopped in front of him, out of breath. The only thing separating us now were the bars of the gate. "I know, but I had to see you."

The gate creaked as Jason opened it, and I crashed into his chest. His hand brushed against my hair softly as he held me in the protective enclosure of his arms, tucking my head under his chin. Everything else faded away. I was aware of nothing else but the sweet fragrance radiating off Jason's skin and the sound of his even breaths.

I sighed and pressed my forehead against his chest. Jason tightened his arms around me, resting his cheek tenderly against the top of my head.

I raised my head to look at him, pained. "I just want you to be safe."

Jason dropped his arms from around me and sighed. "I don't have a choice."

"Neither do I. I'm not leaving you." I exhaled. "I think I might know another way to keep everyone safe tonight."

He frowned. "How?"

I sucked in a breath. "You have to kiss me."

Jason's frown deepened, looking truly confused. "What?"

"A knows about us," I confessed. "He's using it to distract us from finding him. I think the only way we can keep Charles from hurting Spencer and the baby is if you and I kiss."

Shock flitted across his face. "Wait, what baby?"

I stared at him. "You didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"Spencer's pregnant."

"How long have you known?" Jason asked.

"I just found out," I answered. "But Spencer is more at risk now, so we have to do whatever it takes to protect her."

Jason blinked a few times before speaking again. "Jess, it's too dangerous."

"It's the only way," I said.

He reached out to stroke my cheek. "I can't lose you."

"You won't," I assured him.

He looked into my eyes, filled with concern for me. I knew without Jason having to say anything that he trusted me, and I could trust him. What we were doing was dangerous, treacherous even. If I was smart I would've run away by now, but he was like a magnet, moving me closer to him until the gravity beneath our feet couldn't hold us up any longer.

Jason silently took my hand in his, leading me over to the back door of the building. Inside, it was dark and empty with no evidence of anyone having been here. All the blinds were drawn on the windows or boarded up with planks of wood. It took my eyes a minute to make out my surroundings in the semi-darkness.

I curled my fingers around Jason's tighter, my heart pounding. He stroked his thumb across my hand in assurance. I only hoped that our plan worked and that it would keep Charles away from Spencer.

We walked through a door leading into a big room filled with gumball machines, a claw machine, and various other old-fashioned arcade games lined up against the walls, untouched. In the middle of the room was a glass-topped table with small, colored plastic toy frogs inside. Just like the one Charles gave to Jason.

Someone's cell phone was ringing. Jason pulled out his iPhone from his jacket pocket, still holding onto my hand, and looked at the phone's screen to see who was calling. It was his dad. Jason grimaced and pressed the decline button.

He turned to me. "You sure about this?"

I nodded sternly. "Positive. Make it look real."

Jason cupped my face in his hands and gazed deeply into my eyes. "It is."

My insides quivered. Did he not know what he did to me?

He leaned in closer, slowly, not in the way a man would normally hesitate before kissing a woman, but to perfect the kiss. His lower lip trembled as it brushed the top of mine lightly, not quite touching. An excited jolt shot through my body, curling my toes from the anticipation. In the seconds that our lips did finally touch, there was no stopping it. Sparks flew in my veins, cackling to life. And then there was only his lips and mine.

Jason glided his tongue against mine sensually, nearly swallowing me. The soft touch of his mouth drew me closer to him, and I was sucked in. I knotted my fingers through his hair and kissed him harder, pulling him even closer to me. Jason groaned and pressed me against the wall, overcome by passion.

My heart beat faster like a thousand butterfly wings fluttering relentlessly against my ribs. I'd never been kissed like this before.

He sucked on my lower lip and tugged at it gently. With a gasp, I crushed my mouth back onto his, kissing him wildly. Jason's lips parted beneath mine, our breath hot.

I grabbed his face in between my hands roughly, molding my mouth to his. Jason ran his hand along my back as he kissed me more deeply, tracing every inch of my skin, stroking my back. My body shook with pleasure from somewhere deep inside me.

He slid his arm around my lower waist while his other one wrapped around my back, holding me closer. He was holding me the way a real man should. My lips parted in a sigh against his and he caught my mouth with his, not giving me a chance to breathe. I didn't care who could see us. When I was with Jason, I was swept away into another world.

Electricity jolted through my veins from his touch, making the cackling heat between us explode like fireworks. My fingers made their way from his chest and into his hair, wanting more. Jason stroked his mouth with mine, twisting his fingers through the locks of my hair.

A banging noise coming from the stairs made us jump apart. I looked toward the stairwell that ran along the right side of the wall, too panicked to move. When the sound stopped, Jason walked to the back of the arcade by one of the game machines.

"Charles," he called. "You here? Charlie?"

No one answered. I looked around the room, assessing my surroundings. The dim light from upstairs illuminated the east side of the wall near the stairs. I caught movement from the corner of my eye and choked back a scream in my throat. I wanted to call out to Jason, to warn him, but I was afraid Charles would see me and retaliate.

The dark shadow of a hooded silhouette moved along the wall, right behind him. _Charles_.

"Came alone," Jason continued. "Just like you asked."

"Jason," I whispered fearfully. "Behind you."

He turned around to where I'd been looking at, then stared through the darkness of the room, trying to find where Charles' shadow was coming from. The silhouette on the wall had gone motionless.

"Charlie," Jason said again.

I could see the rise and fall of Jason's chest as his breath quickened. I turned and saw a figure standing alone by a broken claw machine, like a ghost. He was wearing a black hoodie, dark pants and boots, and black leather gloves. The sweater's hood pulled over his head concealed his face, making it hard to identify him.

"I'm the one you want," I said bravely. "Leave the others alone." I slowly stepped forward where Charles could see me. I wasn't going to run anymore.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through the room, and I whirled around. Toby stormed in and raised his gun, pointing it directly at Charles.

"Don't move!" he commanded.

Charles turned at the sound of Toby's voice and flinched. Another police officer burst in through the door from the other side, his gun aimed at Charles. "Freeze!"

Jason looked between Toby and the other cop. "Oh my god!"

I squinted through the dark shadows where Charles had been standing a moment before, but he was no longer there. Someone's dark form moved somewhere to the left, and I saw Charles sprinting behind a tall metal shelf of remodeling materials.

I lurched myself through the blackness and raced to the left. I could just barely make out Charles' silhouette, dropping to a crouch behind the towering shelves. My ears rang, panicked at what he was preparing to do.

"On the ground, now!" Toby shouted. He froze, his gun poised and ready.

"Charlie!" I heard Jason yell. "Don't!"

I darted behind the shelves, but I was too late. Charles pulled at the rope that had been holding the PCP pipes together in place and several long metal tubes toppled to the floor, knocking over the cop who had been standing nearby Toby. There was a loud metal clanking sound as he fell facedown.

My eyes searched the darkness for Jason and I found him standing by a pinball machine, only feet away from the chaos. _No!_ I wanted to scream. Fear surged through my body.

"Jason!" My legs tingled with adrenaline as I ran towards the center of the room where he stood, kicking twisted cables out of my way as I went.

I came to a halt when Charles released another set of tubes, nearly hitting Toby as he stepped back. Suddenly, the neon lights in the arcade room powered to life, illuminating the games. Toby blinked, squinting against the bright lights as he struggled to strengthen his grip on the gun in his hands. Several zapping noises erupted from the game machines. He turned at the sound and faltered slightly.

I froze, feeling the confusion cloud my mind. An electric sign flashing ARCADE flickered overhead. Toby staggered back, his eyes unfocused. I gasped and covered my mouth. I realized now why he looked so disoriented: he was under the influence. I'd experienced my own high of drugs long enough to notice the signs.

"Oh my god." I started towards him.

The double doors to the front of the arcade opened, and Josh and the girls ran in. Unable to contain the strength in his limbs, Toby fell to the ground, his palms colliding on the hard-cemented floor. He looked up at the flashing lights dazedly, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

Spencer saw Toby lying on the ground and her eyes widened, her face frozen in a mask of terror. She spread her arms out behind her, trying to keep the others from taking another step. Jason stood in front of them, his face twisted with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Everyone, stay back," she ordered.

I fell to my knees as I reached Toby and knelt down beside him. "Toby, are you alright?"

I felt his forehead, trying to check his temperature the same way my mom did when I was sick. Toby's skin blazed beneath my fingers. He looked up at me, panting.

"I'm here," I tried to assure him.

"Spencer…" Toby croaked.

I frowned at him. "What about Spencer?"

"The baby," he managed.

I scanned the room for Spencer frantically. When my eyes settled on her, Charles yanked off a tarp that was covering a baseball launcher machine and started to pull down the lever controls.

"Charlie, don't!" Jason yelled.

The police officer who Charles had attacked, slowly pushed up on his knees, grabbing his gun off the floor. "Watch it! Watch it!"

He covered his face with his arms as several dozen balls flew towards him at once from the pitching machine with lightning speed. The impact threw the cop to the ground, and he landed on his left arm with an agonized grunt.

Aria's eyes widened. "Oh my god!"

More balls shot out from the machine as Jason ducked, dodging them. And then, just like the strike of a cobra, the balls were thrown toward Toby, smacking him hard in the shoulder.

"Toby!" Spencer screamed. She tried to run over to Toby, but Jason held her back and pushed her to the ground protectively.

Toby staggered backwards as the balls continued to hit him and slid down against the row of game machines until he sat crumpled onto the floor. "No!" Spencer cried.

Charles rotated the pitching ball machine and they arced through the air towards one of the games, causing the lights to blow out. Bright bolts of lights flashed and then exploded into giant sparks near Emily. Instinctively, Josh sprinted towards Emily and threw his arms around her, pushing her away from the sparking electricity. The sound of glass shattering pierced my ears.

I leapt to my feet, but a forceful hit to my back threw me off balance, sending me flying sideways across the floor. I cried out in agony as my head smashed into the hard wood of a pinball machine, stunning me. The pain seared my skull, followed by a throbbing sensation that reverberated to my head. Everything was dizzy and confusing, and it sounded like there were several voices talking to me at once.

I clutched my head and tried to fight through the dizziness. I rolled over, using the remaining strength in my knees to push myself up. The voices had stopped.

I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and someone shoved me back with the heel of their boot. The air rushed out of my lungs from the blow. Then they yanked me up by the back of my shirt and threw me hard against a thick chrome shelf.

"Jess!" I heard Josh cry out.

I blinked. A person wearing a black hoodie loomed across my vision and a pair of dark eyes behind a dark ski mask underneath shook into focus. Charles.

Fueled with anger, I smacked my fist hard into his jaw, feeling it connect with Charles' face as I heard the crunching of cartilage. He turned his enraged, dark eyes on me and slapped me across the side of my face. The contact of leather against my cheek stung, but I jerked up my knee and thrust it into his groin, countering his attack. I ignored his painful groan and hit him again, this time aiming for the nose, flattening under the impact.

Both of his hands shot out and wrapped around my neck, cutting off my oxygen. I couldn't breathe. I tried kicking, but Charles squeezed his fingers around my neck tighter. My hands felt around desperately for a weapon to defend myself with, but all I could feel was cold, hard metal.

"You don't have to do this," I rasped.

An icy, sinister smile bloomed onto his face. "Of course I do. You're the one." His voice was cold and robotic. It occurred to me that it was coming from an automatic voice enhancer hidden somewhere on him.

Before I could ask what he meant, Jason crashed into Charles, slamming him onto his back. I clutched at my throat, gasping sharply.

Jason brought his full weight down on top of Charles and drove his fist into his face. He hit him again and again, then punched him in the stomach. Although Charles' face was concealed by the ski mask, blood oozed out of his mouth.

With my throat burning, I ran to Jason and grabbed his arm, tugging as I tried to pull him off. "Jason, stop! He's not worth it!"

He turned and looked into my terrified face. Slowly, he lowered his hand.

In the next instant, Charles slipped behind the shelf next to us. A blast of fire pierced the air, making me jump. I turned to where the noise had come from. Payton stood a foot away directly in front of Charles, holding a gun in both hands, his green eyes steely and hard. Ready for a fight. He shot at Charles again, this time hitting him in the back near his shoulder blade.

Charles shoved the shelf over and then dashed through the back door on the left side of the building. Jason quickly slid his arms around me, pushing me out of the way as the shelf fell over with a crash. Somehow during the collision Jason had landed on top of me, using his body as a shield against the danger. His face was only inches away from mine, our lips almost touching. I stared back into his eyes, unable to breathe from the sudden closeness. I couldn't seem to look away from his mesmerizing deep blue eyes that bored into mine.

Jason's lips parted, and I could smell his sweet breath on my face. Then he leaned in closer, about to kiss me when a man's moan carried throughout the room.

Hanna, Aria, and Emily rushed over to the police officer that had gotten hurt. He was lying on his back, clutching his arm. In the light, I was able to get a better look at him now. The guy looked a little bit older than Toby, but still young, with prominent cheekbones and cropped, black curly hair. His soft pink lips contrasted with his chocolate-brown skin. It was almost unfair how beautiful he was.

"Oh my god!" Emily cried.

Hanna knelt down next to him. "Lorenzo, are you okay?"

They helped him stand up. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he told them.

Jason blinked, as if waking up from a dream. Then he slowly lowered himself off me, his eyes never leaving mine. Payton was at my side immediately, helping me up.

"Hey, you're okay. You're okay." He put his arms around me, and I held onto him tightly.

From the other side of the room, Spencer crawled over to Toby. "Hey, you had him. I saw you. I saw you. What happened?" She touched his cheek comfortingly and ran her hand down his chest, looking at him softly.

Toby didn't answer. He looked at her, unblinking, not seeming aware of what she was saying. His eyes had glassed over, starting to slow down. I looked over at him in panic.

Just then, the doors split open and policemen burst inside, surrounding us. Payton dropped his arms to his sides and I pressed myself against the shelf, wanting to disappear. Ever since Jonny set me up, cops made me nervous.

A team of cops fanned out around the warehouse with flashlights and rifle shotguns. "Hold it!" one of them yelled. "Freeze! Put your hands up."

Slowly, Spencer, Hanna, Aria, Emily, Jason and Josh stood up and raised their hands. I widened my eyes and froze. My heart was beating so erratically, I wouldn't have been surprised if everyone in the room could hear it.

Payton, who was still standing close to me, wrapped his arms protectively around me, his lips at my ear. "Jess, stay with me. You're safe."

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deep, calming breaths. Payton touched my hair, trying to calm me down.

"Don't move!" the cops demanded, pointing their guns at us. "Do not move!"

I looked over Payton's shoulder and saw Josh standing beside Emily and Hanna. He had his eyes narrowed at Jason's back darkly.

At the police station, after the cops took us all in for questioning, I sat on the empty bench while I waited for Alison and Jason to finish their interview with the detective. Cops bustled around the first floor, answering emergency phone calls, filling out reports, and escorting people in handcuffs to the remaining benches. Ali had called the police before leaving the hotel with Mona, telling them that Charles was A and he wanted to hurt Jason and her friends. I understood why she did it, and I did not judge her for it. If given the chance, I would've done the same thing to protect the people I loved.

Jason was the first one to come out. He opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped out into the hall. His hand was wrapped in a bandage covering the bruises from when he'd hit Charles. When he found me sitting on the bench, I stood up and walked towards him.

"Your hand," I said in concern, reaching for it. "Let me see it."

I examined Jason's hand, looking over the white elastic bandage secured tightly over it. A current of electricity shot through me at the warmth of his skin. It was so intense, I couldn't think.

"It's just a bruise." Jason held my hand, stroking his thumb across my fingers affectionately.

"You saved me," I whispered.

Jason cupped my cheek softly. "I'd do it again." He breathed the words as he looked into my eyes.

I held his steady gaze, feeling hot tears spring to my eyes. "This is all my fault."

"Jess." Jason stroked his thumb across my cheek, wiping away my tears.

"No, if I hadn't asked you to wait for me, none of this would have happened." I felt a burning in the back of my throat as I swallowed.

"It's not your fault," he said in a sure voice. "I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to."

His finger traced the swollen bruises along my neck, and his eyes blazed angrily. My neck ached when from where he touched it.

I covered my hand over his. "Jason, I'm okay."

Jason smiled faintly, though his mouth was tight. "I thought I was going to lose you."

"Jess," a voice said.

I turned. Josh stood at the end of the hall. His expression was hard.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Josh looked me over from head to toe, then noticed the bruises on my neck. He looked towards Jason accusingly, his eye flashing in anger.

"Did _he_ do this to you?" Resentment dripped in his voice.

Before I could respond, Josh lunged forward across the room. He shoved Jason against the wall and gripped the fabric of Jason's shirt, holding him up. Jason dug his fingers into Josh's forearms, looking outraged. My throat constricted in fear. It would only be a matter of time before they tore each other apart.

"Josh, don't!" I lurched forward, wrapping my arms around his chest. It took all the strength I had to pry him off of Jason.

Josh stepped back and folded his taut arms over his chest, his stance overpowering. Jason stood with his fists clenched. I couldn't let them fight, not now, and especially not over me. It was my fault this was happening.

"You must have loved that, kissing her," Josh spat. "What, it wasn't enough to date half of the girls in Rosewood? You have to touch her, too?"

Jason glowered at him. "You're not the only one who cares about Jess."

"Maybe not, but I know that if it weren't for your psycho brother, Jess wouldn't have gotten hurt."

I gaped at Josh in shock, suddenly furious with him. Jason had been devastated when he found out that his father had been keeping Charles a secret. It destroyed him. How could Josh be so cruel?

The muscles in Jason's jaw twitched. "Don't talk about my brother."

Josh glared at him. "You don't deserve her."

Fury burned in Jason's steely blue eyes. "I'll never stop fighting for her, no matter what."

"Neither will I." Josh's voice darkened.

Jason balled his hands back into tight fists and started to move toward Josh, looking ready to strike.

"Stop, both of you!" I stepped in between them, spreading out my arms to stop the fight.

Jason tried to maneuver around me. I turned, pressing my hands against the hard muscles of his chest. I could feel him stiffen, struggling to restrain his fury. Unfortunately, Alison chose that very moment to walk out of the interrogation room. She looked from Josh, then to Jason and I, noticing the tension between us.

"What's going on?" Ali asked.

I lowered my eyes in shame. I immediately felt guilty, not knowing what she'd heard.

The strain in Josh's shoulders eased. "Nothing."

Then without looking at Jason again, he walked swiftly through the station's front doors.

Jason turned to Ali, the anger slowly leaving his eyes. "Come on, Ali. Let's go home."

He cast one last long look at me before walking up to her. He put his hand on Ali's back, leading her to the glass doors of the exit.

I let out a long breath of relief. I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Everything had made sense until I'd kissed both Jason and Josh. Now nothing made sense.

Ali glanced over her shoulder at me curiously before Jason gently tugged her arm away. "You coming, Jess?"

I was about to respond when I saw Spencer walking around the corner. She leaned against the water cooler in the lobby, a sullen expression on her face.

"In a minute," I told her.

I turned and strode down the long hallway. Spencer looked up when she saw me approaching.

"Hey," I said. "How's Toby?"

Spencer gave me a weak smile. "They had him take a drug test and they found marijuana in his system."

I touched her hand. "I'm so sorry. Is he going to be okay?"

She nodded, but tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "Toby had Charles right where he wanted him, but then something happened and he just…lost it. When I looked into his eyes, he didn't look like Toby. It looked like he was on something."

I frowned. "But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Toby be taking drugs on the same night that he knew we were trying to catch Charles?"

Spencer shook her head, her body shaking.

"Where would he even get–" I stopped mid-sentence when an awful thought suddenly occurred to me. Sabrina had marijuana; that much had been evidently clear when she'd tried to offer me some at the coffee shop earlier. The wave of emotions that hit me first were confusion, shock, and then understanding as I realized what had happened.

Spencer looked at me incomprehension. "What is it?"

"Sabrina," I finally answered. "She's the one we should blame."

The Brew was nearly empty when I walked in an hour later. The windows on both sides of the room were covered in various colors of curtains, but dark light from the night sky escaped through the thin fabric. My eyes searched the café and I spotted Sabrina's familiar blonde ponytail, wiping down one of the tables. I marched over to her, slamming my blue leather shoulder bag onto the surface angrily.

Sabrina looked up, her clear blue eyes widening in surprise. When she noticed it was me standing in front of her, her face broke out into a huge smile. "Hey."

I yanked out the empty plastic bag that contained the pot gummy bears and threw it onto the table towards her. "Did you put this in my bag?" I narrowed my eyes at Sabrina suspiciously.

"Yeah," she answered, unashamed. "You'll thank me later."

I bristled. "Don't do that ever again."

"I thought–" Sabrina tried.

"You thought that the former junkie could spaz out on pot," I cut off.

Sabrina's face fell. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

I felt my anger rise. "Well, I'm not the one who ate the gummy bears. Spencer's boyfriend did, who's a cop."

Sabrina blinked, seeming confused.

"He could've died tonight because of you," I shrieked.

"I was just trying to help."

"Well, don't," I snapped, looking at her in disgust. "I already have enough problems in my life right now without you interfering. If you really want to help, stay away from me. And stay away from Spencer and Toby."

With that, I stomped off to the back of the room, finding an empty table by the window, and sat down alone. I set my bag down on top of the table in front of me and pulled out my copy of _The Murders in the Rue Morgue_ that was nestled at the bottom, one of Edgar Allen Poe's most suspenseful works. I had a small collection of my favorite mystery and crime novels back at the cabin that I'd brought with me to Rosewood.

I flipped through the pages of the story, trying to distract me from our humiliating defeat against Charles. I began chapter three, immersing myself with the logical clues and twists behind the grisly murder.

"The _Rue Morgue_ is a good book," I heard a man's voice say.

When I looked up, Detective Holbrook stood at the end of the table, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small, hesitant smile. Judging by his grey _J. Crew_ long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans, I guessed Holbrook was off duty for the rest of the night. It was bizarre to see him wearing something other than his usual detective uniform of suits and button-down dress shirts.

"If you like Allen Poe's stuff, then you'll like _Killer Ambition_ ," he added. "Marcia Clark does crime novels better than anyone I'd ever read."

I turned to the next page of my book, ignoring him. "Is that like a cop thing? You can't solve your own murder, so you'll obsess over a made up one?"

"Okay, I actually came over here to apologize," Holbrook admitted. "I love my job, but it's not easy, especially when it means having to hurt people during an investigation."

Cautiously, I lifted my eyes up to his. He seemed genuinely concerned and apologetic, but it only made me more furious. I stared at him guardedly, feeling my walls build back up.

"What I'm trying to say is that I hope you're okay," Holbrook continued.

I shrugged, feeling the anger slowly dissipate. "I guess. Depends on your definition of okay."

Holbrook's eyes softened. "I heard what happened at the arcade. It sounded…rough. What were you doing at a warehouse anyway?" He looked at me sternly, the way a parent scolded their child.

I let out a breath. "Someone I know wanted to meet Charles. He was trying to get answers."

Holbrook raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

I closed the book and stared down at my hands. "Not really."

He pulled back the chair next to me and sat down. "Listen, Jess, I know you're still upset with me for telling the Officer Maple about your dad, but I want you to know that you can trust me."

"I'm not mad at you," I said automatically, surprising myself by how true those words were. "You were just doing your job. And I might over overreacted a little."

"Oh?" The corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked half smile.

"I said a little."

Holbrook laughed, a whimsical, carefree sound.

I smiled, thinking how nice it was to talk to someone who understood. For a moment, I wondered how different my life would have been if Holbrook was my father instead.

"So what's the big twist?" I asked, referring to my book.

He frowned. "What?"

"Of this book you claim is so great."

Holbrook shook his head. "No way, I'm not giving that away."

"Why not?" I protested. "How am I supposed to know what happens if you don't tell me?"

"I guess you'll just have to see for yourself." He held my gaze. "The best part of a mystery is figuring out who the suspect is before they do."

I stared back at him. It sounded as though there was a double meaning to his words, but I realized that was crazy and let it go.

"Is that why you became a cop?" I asked.

Holbrook's expression suddenly turned serious. "No. I became a cop because I wanted to do something about the bad things that happen here. All I've ever wanted to do was help people."

I looked at him in surprise. "So do I."

I reached for the locket around my neck, tracing my fingers over the single letter initials absently. Feeling vulnerable, I turned my eyes back to his. "How do you know my mother? You never told me."

Holbrook didn't answer right away, as if he was trying to figure out whether he should tell me. "I met your mother when we were in high school together. She was a lot like you. She was beautiful and strong, but kind and spirited. Your mom had a fire in her that I'd never seen before. She wasn't afraid to tell you how she felt, no matter if you agreed with it or not."

I smiled wistfully. "That sounds like her."

Holbrook smiled back, and there was a twinkle in his eye.

I let the heart-shaped locket slip in through my fingers with a sigh. "I don't know what to do."

"About Charles?"

"About everything."

I felt him studying me. "I think you should go talk to whoever it is you're trying to run from."

"What makes you think I'm running from someone?" I asked him with a mixture of surprise and wonder. "You don't even know me."

He put his hand on my back gently, fixing me with an unreadable expression. "I just know."

Holbrook smiled at me tenderly, and everything seemed to fall into place for the first time since I'd arrived in Rosewood.

I stood outside Jason and Alison's house, pacing back and forth nervously. I couldn't face Jason right now, but a powerful pull was drawing me to him like a moth to a flame. I couldn't seem to stay away from him. And I hated to admit it, but Holbrook was right. I'd spent too much time running. I had to face Jason sooner or later.

I didn't know how to feel about the violence that Jason and Josh had displayed at the hospital. I'd always dated guys who were completely wrong for me, and ultimately that sometimes resulted in fights and drugs. But I'd never been put through a situation like this before. I hated seeing Josh and Jason get hurt. Yet the only person I was angry at was myself, for getting close to a guy I could never have. But I knew Jason was stressed and frustrated from all the secrets. It wasn't fair.

I lifted my face up to the dark blue sky overhead, gazing at the starlight. It was the kind of perfect night that was quiet and free. Then Alison stepped out from the front porch. I stared at her with wide eyes, my heart thudding hard in my chest.

"Hey," I said awkwardly. "How long have you been standing there?"

Ali shrugged. "Long enough to know you're avoiding coming inside."

"I'm that obvious, huh?"

She smiled. "Only a little." Ali leaned against the railing. "Does this have anything to do with Jason?"

I frantically searched for something to say, but then I met her sparkling blue eyes, giving me an all-knowing look.

"How did you know?" I sighed.

"Wasn't hard to figure out, especially with the way Jason has been acting lately."

I looked at her, confused. "What do you mean? Is he okay?"

Ali picked at a thread on her sweater. "I see the way he looks at you."

I didn't know what to say. As we fell into silence, I could only imagine what she was thinking. First she lost Charles, now she was losing Jason. Kissing your best friend's brother was a betrayal I couldn't even comprehend. I walked up the front steps, sitting down on the porch's wooden bench.

Ali crossed her arms over her chest and faced me, looking more hurt than betrayed. "Why didn't you tell me what was going on between you two?"

I took a deep breath before answering. "I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I was afraid of how you would react when you found out."

She frowned, looking genuinely confused. "Why?"

I placed my hands in my lap. "Kissing your best friend's brother is just as bad as dating their ex."

Ali stared at me for a long time, then took a seat next to me on the bench. "Is that what you think? That I would be mad at you for kissing Jason?"

I looked away guiltily, conforming her suspicions.

She took my hand in hers. "Jess, I don't care if you have feelings for my brother. I just want you and Jason to be happy, and you deserve it more than anyone else I know."

I smiled at her faintly. "Then why do I feel this way?"

In the dark, I could feel Ali studying me. "I think you're scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of opening up yourself to someone. I mean, three weeks is the longest you've had in a relationship."

I jutted my chin out stubbornly in defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're just so protective with those walls you put up," she pressed.

"It's not a wall," I insisted. "I'm just being cautious."

Alison didn't look convinced. "Jess, I know you're scared of getting hurt, but if you keep that wall up, you're just going to shut out everyone who cares about you."

I stared across the street with hard eyes, feeling my steely self return.

"Do you love him?" Ali asked after a moment.

I turned to her. "Who?"

She smiled. "Jason."

I shut my eyes. It felt like I was being torn in two directions. "I don't know how I feel."

"Yes you do. You're just afraid to say it."

There was nothing left to do but tell her the truth. But how could I when I didn't even know myself?

I looked at Ali wistfully. "I know that I can't love them both. But if I choose one, then I'll lose the other. And after everything that I've been through, I don't want to lose anyone else. With Josh, he always made me feel safe, from my dad, from losing myself, from everything. He was always there and I never once had to question it. But when I'm with Jason, I don't have to be afraid. He makes me feel alive for the very first time."

"You won't lose him," Ali assured me. "You're letting him go."

I looked at the broad sky, now dappled with purple, losing myself to my thoughts. The pressure of trying to decide between Jason and Josh was suffocating. The hardest part was knowing that I would have to hurt one of them, and I wasn't prepared to do that. If I hurt Josh, I would be losing the only home and family I had ever known.

I peeked at Ali, and she looked thoughtful, too. Then something on her wrist caught my eye. Ali's purple string friendship bracelet was tied around her wrist. After Ali moved away, she'd made both of us brightly colored string bracelets with our names stitched into the thread to symbolize our bonded friendship. She'd said even though we were far away now, we would always be close. My bracelet was still tucked away at the bottom of my underwear drawer for safekeeping. But seeing that Alison still wore the bracelet from sixth grade made me feel a little bit safer about everything.

A few more minutes of silence passed before Ali spoke again. "I'm going to go to bed." She leaned in to give me a sisterly kiss on the cheek. And then she turned the doorknob and disappeared inside.

As time passed, I thought about Jason again as I often did, contemplating what to do. Kissing Jason had felt like a dream: something I'd always wanted to happen, but it never felt real until now. Finally, no longer able to put it off any longer, I stood up and went inside.

The house was quiet and dark when I walked in. It had a kind of emptiness that you could never seem to get used to, even with other people around. The DiLaurentis' house was filled with memories of who I was as a kid and the person I had become over the years. The feeling was both unsettling and enlightening all at once. I'd been scared for so long, locking myself away from the world.

I turned down the hall, heading towards the stairs to Jason's room, when I saw him. Two lamps illuminated the darkness in the living room. Jason was sitting on the velvet wingback chair next to a bottle of Scotch, holding a short crystal glass of the bronze liquid. He held the glass in his hand, staring at it with a torn expression as if he was struggling with some life altering decision. I froze as I realized he was about to drink.

My heart tightened. _No_.

"Jason, don't do this," I said in a scared voice.

Jason didn't look up. "Leave me alone," he muttered.

I sat in the chair opposite of him. "Don't throw your life away over him," I said, talking about Charles.

He swallowed deeply, finally lifting his eyes up to mine. "Why? Because I love you?"

"Yes," I answered, my heart thumping hard. "Because you love me."

Jason set down his glass, still brooding. "I was a kid when they took him. And every memory I did have, they tried to erase."

"Jason, please." My lower lip quivered. "You're better than this. You're not like him."

Jason scoffed. "I was gonna tell him to turn himself in. I was gonna drive him to the police station. All I wanted was one moment, Jess. One moment alone with my brother."

He turned his gaze to me, vulnerable and pained. I wanted to say something, to let Jason know that I was here for him. So I reached for his hand, stroking my fingers over his soft skin.

I gazed back into his eyes. "You still have me. You'll always have me."

Jason leaned forward and traced the back of my hand with his fingertips. His blue eyes turned liquid, watching me intently. He didn't need to say anything. I knew what he was thinking without him having to say it.

"Jason, Jason, come play with me," a little boy's voice drifted from upstairs.

I wrinkled my brow. Jason released my hand and quickly rose from his chair, moving in the direction of the sound.

I followed Jason upstairs as the boy's voice led us through the dark hallway and into the attic. Halfway up the landing, Ali's bedroom door opened. She hesitated in the doorway in a pair of purple and black plaid pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved lavender cotton top, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.

Ali started for the stairs. "What is that?"

"We don't know," I said distractedly.

As we walked up the stairs onto the creaking floorboards of the attic, Jason pulled down the string that was connected to the dim overhead light and clicked it on. The attic was filled with junk over the last two years since Alison and Jason's parents had gotten divorced, along with childhood toys tucked away, old clothes stored in boxes, and a few pieces of worn-out furniture covered in dusty white sheets were shoved against the back wall.

I looked around warily. A film projector sat on top of an antique dresser trunk, rolling the film reel. Straight ahead, a projection screen hung from the wall. A movie began to play, illuminating the room against the black light.

The video opened to Ali and Jason at seven and twelve years old, playing whiffle ball. Jason stared at the screen. His face had paled and his eyes were frozen open in shock.

"Jason, Ali, wait for me." A little blonde-haired boy ran up to the younger-looking Ali and Jason. A pointy birthday hat was tied around his head.

Judging by Ali's purple floral dress and the oversize plastic bat she was swinging, this video had been taken at the arcade. Jason stepped forward and held a white ball with cutout holes in both hands, and then tossed it towards the other boy. Alison's long, wavy hair swung behind her as she steadied herself to hit the ball.

"I remember this day," Ali said, suddenly recalling. "Mom took us out of school."

"And took us to the arcade for some second cousin's birthday," Jason added.

"She made us promise not to tell dad."

Jason's face twisted with shock and confusion as he watched the film. Chills slithered up the back of my neck. The little boy with them was Charles.

In another clip, Jason, Ali, Charles and I were flicking plastic toy frogs across the table. "Ready…set, go," Charles said. I remembered that day in first grade when Jessica DiLaurentis convinced my mom to let me miss school for Jason and Ali's cousin's birthday.

I watched Jason stand right behind the 7-year old me as I swung at a rainbow-colored piñata, and my eyes welled up with tears. Jason and I had been inseparable even then. Because Charles was always spending time with Ali, Jason and I did everything together as kids.

"Hit it as hard as you can," the younger Jason told me. I smacked the piñata with the stick and candy poured out onto the floor. The four of us laughed in the background.

The video cut to another familiar scene. It was of Charles and Ali, and they were hitting red balloons back and forth. I sat perched on Jason's lap in the corner while we unwrapped the spilled candy from the piñata.

"Freddie," I heard Jessica call. "Freddie, come here, sweetheart." Charles bounded over to the camera, and his face focused on the screen.

"Are you having a nice birthday?" Jessica asked him.

"Yeah," Charles answered, but then his smile faltered. "When do I have to go back?"

"Oh, not for a while, sweetheart," she replied. "Go, go have fun. Play nice now, okay?"

in another scene, Ali, Charles, Jason and I sat around at a small table with a lit up birthday cake. "Jason, Ali, Jess, you gonna sing?" Jessica asked. "Sing, loves."

Jason, Ali and I smiled into the lens as we sang happy birthday to Charles. The camera zoomed in on us and Charles blew out the candles on the cake.

Alison picked up a thick, creamy notecard next to the film projector. Someone had written, _I wAnted To Trust You_ , in huge, bold red letters. "I wanted to trust you," Ali read out loud.

Off-screen, Jessica said, "Nice singing, you guys. Good job, Freddie." After Charles finished blowing out the candles, the three of us clapped and cheered. The camera remained on Charles, Jason, Ali and me.

Ali and Jason stared at the movie with wide, stunned eyes. I backed away from the screen, feeling my stomach turn over. What the hell just happened? Had we just watched Charles as a kid? And what did that have to do with Jason, Ali and I?

Jason's eyes remained focused on the screen, and there was a disturbed expression on his face. "Ali, I need to be alone for a minute."

"I'll go," Ali said quietly. "But only if you promise not to drink."

He nodded. "I promise."

She hesitated, reaching her hand out as if to comfort him, but then changed her mind and turned for the stairs.

I moved next to Jason slowly and touched his arm. When he didn't push me away, I pressed my cheek against his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I murmured.

Jason swallowed hard. "Not really."

I locked my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his chest, pulling him close against me. I could feel his every breath, feel his heartbeat thudding against mine. Seeing Jason like this and not being able to do anything was torture.

Jason's hands slid around my body and he leaned into me, burying his head into the crook of my neck. It made me feel warm and buzzy, like I'd just consumed ten glasses of wine. I stroked his golden blonde hair soothingly, brushing my lips against his forehead.

After a minute, Jason straightened and I reluctantly pulled out of his arms, though his hands lingered at my waist. He looked at me, gazing into my eyes so intensely that I had to look away.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I'll go make you some tea. It helps with nerves."

His eyes stayed on my face. "Thanks."

I walked down the stairs and passed the hallway to the kitchen, my heart pounding. The first floor was dark and quiet. I flipped on the light. Despite the fact that the old-fashioned Victorian home had been built in the 1800s, the DiLaurentises' kitchen looked sleek and flawless with its marble-topped island and porcelain-tiled floor.

I grabbed a mug and a tea packet from the cupboard, and set a kettle on the stove, making chamomile tea. A few minutes later, the kettle squealed. I poured the honey-colored liquid into the mug and switched off the burner.

I entered the living room to find Jason lying on the couch, covering his face with his hand, looking deep in thought. My heart ached for him. I couldn't begin to imagine what Jason was going through right now. Not only had his mother been murdered, but he'd lost his brother, too. I bit my lower lip nervously, thinking of what to say to him. What must it be like, I wondered, to have to say goodbye to the brother you never knew?

Every memory that Jason had of Charles had been wiped away like a computerized program, being forced to forget his only brother. Though I could see that he was still thinking about him–remembering how close they used to be, licking frosting off the birthday cake, all the good times they'd had–tormented by the last memory he'd ever had of his brother. But Charles was A. He'd killed Jessica DiLaurentis, threatened us with our deepest hidden secrets, and tortured my friends and I for months in a creepy, dollhouse-themed bunker for his own sinister pleasure. With the past haunting both of us, I had a feeling it was just the beginning, cutting open old wounds and memories that we weren't ready for.

When I crossed to the other side of the room, Jason sat up and locked eyes with me.

"Hey," I said. "I didn't know which tea you liked, so I just made chamomile."

His fingers brushed against mine as I handed him the tea mug, sending sparks of electricity through my body.

I sat next to him on the couch, rubbing his back. "I'm sorry."

Jason took a sip of his tea, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. His guard was up.

"I was trying to remember the last time I saw him," he finally said. "We used to be close. He was more like a best friend than a brother. And my dad took that away from me." His mouth was pressed in a taut, distressed line.

"What was it like, saying goodbye to him?" I asked gently.

Jason looked at me with anguish. "When Charlie was gone, it felt like I'd lost a huge part of my life. He was the first best friend I ever had."

I steadied my eyes to his. "I meant what I said, you have me," I said seriously. "I'm never going to walk away from you."

Jason slowly lifted his hand and stroked my cheek, trailing his fingers over my lips. I wanted to kiss his fingertips. Unable to help myself, I parted my lips beneath his touch, kissing his fingers. They tasted sweet like him, and felt soft and tender against my skin. My insides trembled.

Then I reached over and traced my fingers over the stubble on his cheek, trying to memorize the beautiful lines of his face. Without taking his eyes off mine, Jason took my hand in his and pressed his lips against the inside of my palm, and my breathing quickened.

When he lifted his face up to mine, his expression was soft. "Will you spend the night with me?" he whispered.

My heartbeat picked up, a wild thrill rushing through me at the prospect of being alone with Jason. I knew he wasn't only asking me to stay with him because he needed it, but because he wanted me.

I looked into his eyes directly. "Of course I will."

I took Jason's hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom, turning off lights as we went. Jason's house was as familiar to me as if it were my own home–not that my craftsman-style house in Ohio really felt much like a home.

I let go of his hand and bounded over to the door. "I'm going to find something to eat first."

Jason gave me a half-crooked smile. "At this hour?"

I scowled at him. "I'm starving."

I headed down the stairs and pushed slipped through the dark kitchen. I made my way over to the liquor cabinet above the sink and peered into the nearly barren antique wooden shelves, checking for bottles of liquor and vodka. The whole reason I'd come down here was to make sure there was no liquor left for Jason to get his hands on. But knowing Alison, she'd already hidden them; there wasn't a trace of alcohol in sight. There was something about snooping around the kitchen while Jason and Ali got ready for bed upstairs that reminded me of our days at the beach house. Some things never changed.

Satisfied that all the liquor bottles were stashed away in a secret place, I closed the cabinet and padded back upstairs into Jason's room. Jason was removing the extra small pillows from the bed and tossing them onto the carpeted floor. When I shut the door behind me, I couldn't help but yawn. It was late and through the window it was pitch-black outside.

Jason hesitated at the foot of the bed when he heard me come in, moving to stand in front of me, only inches away from my face.

"Do you have anything to wear to bed?" His piercing blue eyes penetrated mine so deeply that I had to look away.

My cheeks flushed at the word _bed_ and I felt my lower lip tremble. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, as if to smile. I shook my head, forcing myself to step back. "No."

Jason was removing his shirt. It was hard not to ogle his perfectly formed chest and abs. From his strong hips, the lines in his stomach that carved hard muscles from his sternum to his abdomen, and the contours of his perfectly muscled, taut chest.

He handed the shirt to me. "You can wear this for tonight. I'll turn around so you can change."

As soon as Jason turned around respectively, I moved toward the corner of the room by the door. I unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them off my thighs, and then pulled my tank top over my head, leaving me in only a pair of low-waisted lacy black boyshorts that rested low on my hips. My back was bare, without a bra to support my chest.

Even with my back turned, I could feel Jason watching me. The feeling made me hot all over. I peeked over my shoulder at him. Jason was turned away from me, but I thought I saw his left cheek flushing with color, trying to look away. He started to unbutton his jeans and slid them off, revealing a pair of grey, tight-fitting Calvin Klein boxer briefs resting below his waist. My heart sped up, feeling a rush of heat spread through my body. Here there was no Charles or A, no friends. Just me and Jason, the boy I'd loved since forever.

I quickly looked away, slipping Jason's cotton shirt on, reminding myself that I shouldn't be feeling this way.

The shirt hung at my mid-thigh and it smelled like him, like eucalyptus and mint. I turned to glance at myself in the mirror–at my dark hair that fell at my shoulders, at my chocolate-brown eyes and angular cheeks. The shirt hugged at my chest and made my skin glow. Standing here in his room, wearing his shirt, I never felt more beautiful.

By the time I made sure I was covered, eager for Jason to see this part of me, he was already sleeping on the bed. The moonlight poured in through the bedroom window, illuminating Jason's almost-naked body. I walked over to the side of the bed and crawled underneath the sheets, carefully lying beside him.

I inched closer to Jason, trying to ignore the feeling of his warm, soft skin brushing against mine as I rested my head on his chest. His chest rose and fell as though he was releasing all the stress and anger from today. I could hear Jason breathing evenly, my cheek pressed against his strong chest. I turned to look at him. His eyes were closed peacefully, the muscles around his face loosened and relaxed.

Soon I found myself falling asleep to the sound of his soft, rhythmic heartbeat thudding against my ear. And that's how we slept for the entire night.

Spencer

After the cops finished questioning me, I walked out into the long hallway towards the conference room, where Toby was being held until further notice. Lieutenant Tanner said he'd been lucky–nothing was broken from the shoot out, there was no brain damage from the cannabis consumption, and luckily, he'd only blacked out for a few minutes. A medics team had examined me inside of the AMR van to check for any scars or bruises. But after a thorough inspection, they determined that the baby and I were in perfectly good health. Nothing felt damaged and my fall from earlier hadn't been too severe. Alison and Jess' friend, Payton, however, had left the police station before he could be questioned for bringing a gun to the warehouse. But I had a feeling his disappearing act had more to do with Jess' sake than his.

The indistinct radio chatter from the policemen's ever present walkie-talkies cackled from their uniforms in the lobby, and the front desk's phones were ringing off the hooks with news about Charles' escape. When the police found Toby hallucinating from the pot, they immediately helped him into the ambulance van before I had a chance to see if he was okay.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest as I continued down the hall, tortured with anxiety and guilt. An hour before my friends and I met Jason at the abandoned warehouse, Sabrina had slipped a plastic bag of pot-filled gummy bears into Jess' purse without her knowing. And since our purses were nearly identical, Toby mistakened it as mine and ate the candy that was really meant for Jess. Jess explained that Sabrina had somehow learned about her drug-using past and tried to offer her pot, hoping to put her back on a junkie kick. But I couldn't be angry with Jess; she had no idea what Sabrina had done until she'd reached the police station.

I stopped at the conference room, glancing through the window as I passed. Although the blinds were halfway closed, I could still make out Toby's slumped form inside the darkened room. Hesitantly, I turned the handle on the door and stepped inside. Toby sat at the end of a long oval, mahogany wooden table, holding an ice pack to the side of his head, and there was a plastic cup of water in front of him.

I shut the door behind me quietly and sat down in the chair next to him. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

Toby moved his lips, but he didn't speak. His eyes looked bloodshot and dazed, his forehead and cheeks were moistened with sweat, and he was still shaking from the drugs in his system. I couldn't bare to see him like this, and it was my fault. A big lump formed in my throat and water filled my eyes, blurring my vision.

"Look, I didn't know that she put those in Jess' bag," I said, my face wet with tears. "Okay, and I'm sure that you're only supposed to take, like, one."

Toby's lip trembled and his eyes had glassed over with tears. He was breathing heavily, struggling to speak through the hysteria and confusion.

A big, gaping hole punched through my chest, and all the panic and worry I'd been feeling earlier rushed to the surface, growing stronger and consuming me whole. If I hadn't been so focused on catching Charles, then I would've noticed that my bag looked exactly like Jess' earlier and Toby never would have taken the pot gummy bears in the first place. I didn't want to think about what could have happened if Toby had eaten any more, or worse, if our baby came into the world without her father. Toby had every right to be angry with me, and there was no reason for him to want to be with me now. Seeing him get hurt and losing him all over again was too painful to bear. I didn't want to live without him.

"I really should have told you that I was having problems," I told him guiltily. "We were so close. If you hadn't eaten…" My voice choked on a sob, and I reached for his hand. "Toby."

"I need you to leave." His blue eyes glistened with tears. "Wait in the lobby for your mom. I can't have somebody come looking for you and fi-fi-find me like this." His words were still slurred and incomprehensible.

I stared at him in shock, trying to register what he'd said. It felt like he'd slapped me. Toby unclasped his fingers from mine and turned away, refusing to look at me.

I heard him inhale a sharp breath. I dabbed at my eyes as more tears tumbled down my cheeks.

I touched Toby's arm. "Okay," I said sadly.

"Yeah." Still, he wouldn't look at me.

My chin wobbled as the tears spilled over, my heart shattering. Slowly, I got up from my chair and pushed through the door back out into the hall.

I walked into the lobby numbly, not really caring about anything. My eyes stung from crying. In the waiting area, parents waited patiently as Aria, Hanna and Emily finished their interview with the detective, except for Ali, who was driving home with Jason and Jess. Josh had left abruptly not long after a fight broke out between him and Jason. I didn't know what happened, but it seemed to revolve around Jess, who had somehow gotten caught in the middle. I vaguely recalled how furious Jason had been, the way he'd lunged toward Josh without hesitation, and I wondered if there was more going on between Jason and Jess than just friendship and I was too jaded to see it.

When Hanna entered the room, Ashley Marin crossed her arms over her chest sternly, shooting her an evil glare. "We're leaving. _Now_."

I moved my hands down to my prominent, bulging belly, overwhelmed by the range of emotions filling me. The baby was getting bigger each day, and the more she grew, the closer I was to going into labor. The anxiety strangled my throat. I wanted Toby right now more than ever. I needed him to help me through this. I felt so scared about my due date and the pain of when I would be giving birth. And then a new kind of selfish fear rippled through me. What if I had to do this alone?

I felt a nudging kick against my stomach, as if the baby was sensing my discomfort. The only thing that mattered right now was my unborn child. I could've lost her tonight and the thought terrified me more than anything.

I placed my hand over the spot where she'd kicked me, rubbing the center of my stomach. "Shhh, it's okay, baby. Everything's going to be okay."

The sound of my voice seemed to soothe her, and the movements inside my tummy slowed.

The feeling of someone's hand on my shoulder made me spin around. Standing in front of me was my mother, a deeply concerned look on her face. She looked like she'd come straight from the law office, wearing a white Ralph Lauren button-up shirt underneath a black blazer and Gucci slingbacks.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Mrs. Hastings asked. "I came as soon as I heard."

"I'm fine," I assured her. "I'm not hurt."

"Is the baby…?" she trailed off.

I rested my hand over my pregnant belly. "The baby's okay."

My mom pulled me into a hug and I squeezed her tightly. When I rested my head on her shoulder, I felt the tears spring back to my eyes. I'd felt so scared and alone.

"Are you still living with Toby?" Veronica's voice quivered with concern.

I glanced at my reflection in the hallway window darkly, angry with myself for letting Toby get hurt. I had been staying with him in his loft, but after my careless mistake, he probably wanted nothing to do with me. Not that I could blame him. That was the price I would have to pay for ruining everything. But my old house didn't feel like home anymore, and living together was essential if Toby and I wanted to make this work for our baby.

"Yeah," I said.

"Toby won't be released for a few hours. Why don't you stay with me until then?"

I imagined coming home to my father's wrath while he and my mother slept in separate bedrooms to avoid each other, and vigorously shook my head. "No, that's okay. I'll just wait for Toby."

As soon as I said it, I realized how much I'd meant it.

Late that night, I stumbled into the loft. Inside, the lights were turned off and all the windows were shut. I flipped on the light switch by the living room and went straight to the laundry room. The laundry basket sat on top of the washing machine with Toby's untidy clothes tucked inside, just like I'd left it this morning. I grabbed the basket and carried it upstairs to our bedroom, settling in the center of the bed cross-legged.

After about thirty minutes of folding clothes, I felt the tears return, streaming down my face. I crumpled Toby's boxers in my hands and tossed it aside. With a deep sigh I got up from the bed and trudged down the stairs, sinking into the living room couch. Shivering, I brought my knees up to my chest and curled myself into a tight ball, letting myself cry. Responsible or not, it was my fault that Toby got high from the pot gummy bears he never even wanted. The more I replayed the scene of Toby hallucinating inside the warehouse, the guiltier I felt. Toby was so sweet and honorable, he'd simply told Lieutenant Tanner that he didn't feel well and didn't know how the drugs had gotten into his system. I knew he only lied to protect me from getting into trouble from Tanner.

I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears slid down my cheeks, feeling cold and scared that Toby wouldn't be okay. I was an emotional wreck. What if Tanner wouldn't let him come home because of what happened? Or worse: what if he couldn't get the marijuana out of his system? How was I supposed to tell him how sorry I was if I couldn't see him? I swallowed deeply. There was no point. Toby would never forgive me.

Toby didn't walk through the door until eleven that night. His face looked tired and worn, and the top buttons of his uniform were undone. I didn't even notice him come into the living room until I felt a soft, fleece blanket being wrapped around me. I realized that I was still shivering.

Toby immediately reached his arms out towards me on the couch and pulled me onto his lap, hugging my body to him. I instantly felt myself melt in his arms liked puddy and wrapped my legs around his waist while I hugged him back.

"Is the baby okay?" he murmured into my hair, in a worried voice that only a caring, protective father would use.

I nodded shakily into his chest. Toby touched my baby bump, but he wouldn't look at me.

My lower lip quivered and fat, wet tears started to fill my eyes.

Toby's eyes softened. "Spencer…"

"I'm so sorry," I wept. I couldn't control the tears that flowed relentlessly down my face.

Toby held me against him, kissing my tear-stained face.My fingers clutched his shirt as I sobbed into his chest, overcome with guilt.

"Shhhh." He rubbed my back soothingly and pressed his lips to my head firmly. "I love you."

I sniffled. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have gotten in so much trouble. I know you blame me."

Toby pulled away slightly to look at me. "Is that what you think?" There was a mixture of hurt and confusion in his face.

I turned my face away from him sadly, but Toby cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him. "It's not your fault," he said sternly. "I could never be mad at you or blame you. I love you. The only thing I care about is keeping you and our baby safe."

He moved his other hand over my prominent stomach, feeling the baby kick.

A slight smile curved on my lips. "You do?"

Toby pressed his forehead against mine tenderly. "Yes."

He pulled back an inch to stare at my face. "My feelings for you will never change. I'm sorry I told you to leave the police station. I was just scared of Tanner getting you into trouble. I never wanted to hurt you. I should have just told you to wait for me outside."

I reached out to stroke his cheek. "It's okay. I understand."

He lifted his eyes to mine. "Can you forgive me?"

"Only if you can forgive me."

"Of course I forgive you. I love you." Toby leaned in to give me a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips and my heart fluttered. I curled my fingers into his hair, losing myself in the kiss. He was just so perfect and wonderful.

Then Toby slid his hands underneath the back of my thighs and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me to our bedroom. When he set me down on the bed gently, he opened up the top drawer of his dresser and took out a pair of his blue plaid boxers and my favorite one of his shirts. Toby undressed me slowly, helping me into his clothes.

I lifted my arms as he pulled the T-shirt over my head. After stripping down to his tight boxer briefs, Toby snuggled in bed with me and pulled the covers over us to stay warm.

Toby kissed my hair. "Do you want to watch a movie?" He gestured toward the flat screen TV that hung on the wall in front of our bed.

"No." I entangled my legs with his. "I just want you to hold me."

He tightened his arms around me. "I'd love nothing more."

I rubbed my face into his chest like a kitten, nuzzling against him. Toby started rubbing big, soothing circles onto my back to lull me to sleep, telling me how much he loved me. And when I finally did fall asleep in his arms, I was certain that I would never love another man as much as I loved Toby. It was infinite, untouchable.


	13. Chapter 13

13\. Revelations

Spencer

Thursday morning, Hanna, Emily, Jess and I sat on the couch and leather chairs in the Montgomery's living room while Aria and Alison fixed us some coffee from the kitchen, and we were all watching the nine o'clock news on the flatscreen TV that hung over the mosaic-tiled fireplace. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, _Kidnapper Identified_.

A newswoman stood in front of the Rosewood courthouse. "Authorities have named Charles DiLaurentis as a lead suspect in the kidnapping of six Rosewood teens as well as a seventh victim from Courtland," she announced. "Both state and local police remain tight-lipped about the case."

Bile rose up in my throat. Ali had told us she'd called the police last night to turn in Charles, despite her belief that he wouldn't try to hurt her. How could Charles have escaped so quickly? Ho could there be no trace of him anywhere? He was still out there, looking for us… If I hadn't mixed up Jess' bag with mine that night, Toby wouldn't have been drugged and we could've caught A.

I turned to Emily, an idea flashing in my head. "Hey, did, uh, did Ali turn in those home movies to the cops? The ones that Charles left at her house?"

Last night, after Ali and Jason went home, they'd found an old homemade film playing in their upstairs attic of the two of them with Charles when they were kids. Jess had appeared in one of the scenes with Ali and Jason as well, proving that she'd been connected to Charles long before she'd shown up in Rosewood. And if she was somehow a key in all of this, why did A wait until now to show himself to her? It creeped me out to think that A had been watching Jess all this time.

"Yeah, I think so." Emily frowned. "Why?"

"Maybe they could do one of those age progression sketches," I proposed. "We could finally put a face to the name."

"And maybe someone could put a fist to that face," Hanna said angrily.

Jess glanced towards her, an annoyed look on her face, but said nothing.

I pulled out the temporary burner phone that Holbrook had given me, immediately typing a message to Toby: _Hey baby, I miss you. Are you feeling any better today?_

Within seconds, Toby wrote back with a response:

 _I'm much better. I miss you, too. I want to see you._

My stomach fluttered with butterflies, excited and anxious to see him all at once. After Toby had mistakenly eaten Jess' pot gummy bears the night before, he'd hallucinated and gotten sick with a fever from the drugs found in his system. I'd been taking care of him at home since, making soup for him, helping him move around the loft, and giving him lots of fluids.

The worst part about Toby getting sick was knowing that it was my fault. If I had just told him what was going on from the beginning, he never would've taken those gummy bears in the first place. The terrible guilt was eating away at me, and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed with him. Instead, I was here, trying to figure out who A was so we could get back to our lives. _Again_.

Aria and Ali emerged from the kitchen then, carrying coffee mugs in their hands and handed them out to everyone. "Well, we are officially out of beans." Aria gestured to the television. "What did we miss?"

"Nothing, unless you count Hanna strategizing ways to beat a psycho killer to a pulp," Jess replied, "which considering our history, would be from slim to none." She narrowed her eyes at Hanna darkly.

Hanna glowered at her. "So what, you think you could take him?"

"More so than you."

"I'm not the one who has bruises on my neck because A tried to choke me to death," Hanna shot.

"Bite me," Jess fired back.

My cell phone beeped again. The phone's screen lit up with a new text from Toby, and I pressed READ.

 _The highway is surrounded by state troopers, please be careful._

My stomach flipped. "Toby says that the highway patrol is setting up checkpoints at all the state borders."

"Did he say anything else after he accidently ate half your stash?" Aria asked.

"He's texting me," I answered gloomily. "That's a win."

"Hey, guys, shh," Emily shushed us. She picked up the remote and turned up the volume on the TV.

The screen flashed to another news story on the channel–the unsolved murder of one of Charles' victims, Ali's mom. An image of Jessica DiLaurentis emerged on the screen and a big caption at the bottom read, _Jessica DiLaurentis_. "Though police have yet to comment officially, inside sources speculate that the former Radley patient could be responsible for the unsolved murder of his mother, Jessica DiLaurentis. One of the first responding officers on the scene suffered minor injuries in pursuit of the suspect."

Aria turned to Ali. "Did you know about this?"

Ali looked at her with glassy eyes. "No."

"You should probably ask your dad," I suggested gently.

"Yeah, like he'd give a straight answer," Hanna said sarcastically.

I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug. My head felt overstuffed with information, like it could explode any minute. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours before I could even process it all correctly and I felt mixed up inside. I felt terrible that I hadn't told Jess about Holbrook. I felt weirded out, and for some reason, remorseful that Mr. DiLaurentis abandoned Charles at Radley–that he wanted to pretend his child never existed. And after all this time, the person responsible for killing Jessica DiLaurentis was her own son, Charles.

"Okay, well if it is true," Emily said, "it's awful. Ali's mom is practically the only person who visited him, who even knew that Charles existed."

"And he used her to fertilize Spencer's petunias," Hanna added.

"My mom grows azaleas," I corrected, feeling annoyed.

Hanna rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Charles is vicious. We know all that. And now everyone else knows it, too."

Alison's forehead puckered. "We had birthday cake. That day at the arcade when Jason, Jess and I met him. Charles gave me his frosting. How does that turn into vicious?"

"He's not the same person we remember, Ali," Jess told her gently.

Aria reached for the remote and snapped off the TV. "We're probably done watching this, right?" She turned back to Ali. "Do you remember anything else?"

Ali didn't answer for a minute, looking like she was trying to compose herself. "He cried when it was time to leave. 'Said it was the best birthday he ever had.' The person they're describing on the news…I mean, I don't even know who that is."

"You played skeeball, once," Hanna snapped. "I wouldn't call that family bonding."

Ali looked at her with a mixture of shock and hurt.

"Hanna," Emily scolded.

"I think what Hanna's trying to say," I tried, looking at Ali, "is that it's hard for us to imagine that A is actually your brother."

Anger flashed in Hanna's eyes. "No, what's hard to imagine is that you feel even the slightest bit of pity for Charles."

Jess turned her steely eyes on her. "That's her brother!"

"Little harsh, Hanna," Aria said right after.

"He's been out for blood, for all of us!" she sputtered. "And he's come way too close more than once."

A hot, palpable irritation surged through me. "We hear you, but it's unfair to Ali right now."

"Why are you trying to shut me up, Spencer?" Hanna yelled. "I'm just saying what you guys are thinking. If you guys are too scared to be honest, then fine. I will do it for you." She looked at Ali directly. "I'm sorry, Alison. I know this must really suck for you. But I'm not gonna sit here and help you give A the benefit of the doubt. I hope the police catch him because there's nothing they could do to him that's worse than what he did to us."

A vein in Jess' neck pulsed. "Quit being such a bitch and get over it!"

"Charles tortured us!" Hanna yelled back with equal force. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"So Charles played a game of truth or dare with you for three weeks? Boo-hoo. I spent months in there locked in a basement while he chained me up and electrocuted me with a horse baton, and I have the burn scars to prove it. Unlike you, I actually was tortured." Her eyes glistened with tears and it looked like she was trying hard not to cry. "You want honesty? Here it is: you think you're better than everyone else just because you were given certain advantages. That makes you lucky, not special. Everything you have was just handed to you. You have no idea what it was really like to be trapped in that place, to get burned and shocked just for saying the wrong thing. Or feeling helpless and powerless, not knowing if you'd ever make it out of there alive. You don't have the slightest clue."

Jess snatched her messenger bag off the leather wingback chair and turned sharply for the door, slamming it hard behind her. A sour note filled the room.

I looked away from Hanna, feeling beyond angry and frustrated with her. I listened to the sound of gravel outside as Jess pulled her car out of the Montgomery's driveway. I had the sudden urge to hit Hanna for all the horrible things she said to Ali, for the look on Jess' face when she talked about being locked away in the Dollhouse. Until now, Jess never talked about her time in the Dollhouse and now I understood why. It wasn't fair.

I picked up my purse from off the floor. "Actually, I should get going, too. I have to see Toby."

Then without a backward glance at Hanna, I flung the door open and stepped outside into the fresh spring air, walking over to my Toyota Highlander that was parked by the street. I slid into the leather seat and started the car.

I hurried home, knowing the faster I drove, the more at ease I would feel once I would be with Toby. When I finally opened the front door to the loft, I sprinted upstairs to our bedroom and my face broke out into a huge grin. I let the relief flood through me as I saw his face.

Toby sat up in bed from where he'd been resting and smiled back at me automatically. "Hey, you."

I dove for Toby immediately, crashing into him on the bed. I laid on top of him and pressed my mouth to his, kissing him deeply. Toby wrapped his arms around me and held me there against him. His lips scorched mine as he kissed me, and I realized just how hot he was.

I pulled away and pressed my hand to Toby's forehead, and noticed again how hot his skin felt against mine. "Baby, you're burning up."

"I feel fine," Toby insisted.

I frowned, not believing him, and touched my fingers to his head again. His skin blazed beneath my skin. "We need to get you into the tub, c'mon."

I lifted myself off him and tugged at Toby's hands, pulling him up to his feet. I dragged him over to our white mosaic-tiled bathroom and shut the door.

While Toby stripped out of his white undershirt and navy-blue boxers, I leaned over the drop-in bathtub and ran hot water into the tub, adding sweet-scented bubble bath. Then I set aside a fluffy, but sexy black bathrobe for him on a hook by the door.

After I undressed, I helped Toby into the bathtub. He climbed into the steaming water slowly and the bubbles rose to the top, still weak from his fever. I slid in after him carefully, trying not to hurt him.

Inside the tub, Toby trembled. I wrapped my naked legs around his rib cage and kneaded my hands deep into the tissue along his spine and neck, massaging him. Toby leaned back into me and moaned with pleasure.

We lay in the tub for a while and relaxed in the bubble bath, letting the lukewarm heat soak into our skin and soothe our aching muscles. I took a sponge from the soap bar and scrubbed the soap into his body, starting from his arms to his torso, and down to his legs. Toby moaned again.

I ran the sponge slowly along his chest, rubbing the soap deep into his skin. A sigh escaped past Toby's lips.

"Feel better?" I pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Mmm," he answered.

I grabbed a bottle of Toby's favorite cucumber-scented shampoo from the edge of the tub and squirted it into my palm. I gently massaged the thick substance into his scalp, untangling the knots in his hair. When I was done, I rinsed out Toby's hair under the faucet. We spent the next few minutes playing with the bubbles. I scooped up a handful of the popping, sparkling white bubbles into my hand and blew them towards Toby. He laughed and covered my face in bubbles.

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "I love you, Toby," I sighed.

Toby hugged me back. "I love you, too."

For some unexplainable reason, tears started to form in my eyes. "I'm so sorry."

He rubbed my back. "For what?"

"For the pot. I should have told you what I was going through."

Toby touched my cheek. "Spencer, it's not your fault."

"But if something had happened to you, if I had lost you…" I choked on a sob.

He heard me sniffle and lifted me easily onto his hips and I rested my cheek against his chest, crying unsteadily.

"Shhh." He hugged me, stroking my wet hair and my back. "I could never be mad at you."

I wrapped my legs around his back, pressing my hands to both sides of his face. "Did you take your medication?"

Toby gazed at me through half-closed eyes, as though he were dreaming. "Not yet."

I felt myself begin to panic. "The doctor says you have to take them twice every day."

He kissed my fingers and rested them against his cheek. "I'll take them, I promise."

I stood up in the tub, still naked and wet. "You're taking them now."

Toby lavished his eyes over my body and I could feel how much he wanted me. I blushed, turning away sheepishly.

We stepped out of the tub and wrapped each other in bath towels, drying off. In the bedroom, I slipped into a blue floral silk dress that fell just above the knee and tall black boots, not caring if Toby saw me naked, and rubbed the towel through my hair.

I felt Toby looking at me and glanced over at him. He was changing into a pair of sexy Calvin Klein boxer briefs that rested below his hips, water dripping down his chest and abs from our bath. He looked yummy. I eyed some of his perfectly muscular buttocks as he pulled on his boxers, making my heart thud unsteadily.

I ran my brush through my wet hair, smoothing out the tangles. Finally, I couldn't delay it anymore. I picked up my phone from the top of my dresser and checked to see if I had any new messages. The phone's screen lit up with three missed calls from Hanna and a new text.

I need your help. My mom wants me to accept the tuition money from The Carissimi Group.

I sighed, and then padded down the hall. From downstairs, the doorbell chimed, alerting us to a visitor. A second later, a female voice shouted, "Spencer! Open up!"

When I opened the door, Hanna was standing outside. She was wearing the same blue printed dress and black high heels from this morning, her face pinched with irritation.

"Didn't you get any of my messages?" she demanded.

"I just got out of a bath." I rubbed my temple, already feeling a headache coming on.

Hanna pushed in without waiting to be invited in. "My mom is keeping the check that the Carissimi Group sent me for my college tuition. She doesn't think that Charles is the one who gave me the money."

"Hanna, I want to talk to you about this, I really do, but Toby–"

Before I could finish my sentence, Toby came down the stairs, looking sexy in a white T-shirt and jeans. I brightened and grabbed his face in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

"Hey, handsome. How are you feeling?" I stroked his cheeks with my thumbs.

Toby wrapped his arms around me and pressed his forehead to mine, holding me close. "Better now that you're here."

Hanna rolled her eyes and groaned. "Get a room."

Toby looked up, as if just noticing Hanna was there. "Oh, hey, Hanna."

"I should go get your medicine." I trailed my lips along his cheek, then kissed his temple.

I wandered over to the kitchen past Hanna and grabbed the bottle of Motrin capsules from the cabinet that Toby's doctor had prescribed to him. I found a glass and then filled it with water from the kitchen sink.

I dropped two pills into Toby's hand and handed him the glass of water. "If you need anything else, just whistle."

Toby smiled, turned on by my flirting, and gave me a big, hard kiss on the lips.

Breaking the kiss, I kissed him on the cheek. "Love you."

"I love you more." He took a handful of my hair in his fingers and pressed it to his nose, breathing in my smell.

Instead of arguing with him about loving him more, I gazed up into Toby's gorgeous blue eyes. "Will you try to get some rest?"

He nodded yes. "I promise."

And then he kissed me softly on the lips. When Toby pulled away, I watched him disappear up the stairs sadly. I didn't want him to go, even if he was a close distance away upstairs.

"Hello? Earth to Spencer!"

I turned around to face Hanna, snapping back to attention. "Hmm?"

Hanna cocked an eyebrow. "The money that Charles sent me, remember?"

"Oh, right," I said. "Sorry."

"Mrs. DiLaurentis gave money to the Carissimi Group to support Charles, and then that same charity sends me money for college," she went on. "That can't be a coincidence. Why would Charles give me a scholarship if he was just planning to hurt us all along?"

I touched my big, round belly as I felt the baby moving around in there, twisting into an uncomfortable position. My stomach tightened uncomfortably, making me feel bloated. The bigger I got, the hungrier and more exhausted I felt.

I yawned, trying to keep my eyes open. With the tons of schoolwork I had to make up for and my commitment to the Decathlon Club, it was a wonder that I wasn't more tired than I actually was. I wished for nothing more than to go upstairs, crawl into bed, and sleep next to Toby.

Hanna looked concerned. "Are you okay? Do you feel nauseous?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't feel sick. Just tired. I'll look up the Carissimi Group."

Still ramped up with hormones, I dragged myself toward the round kitchen table and opened up my laptop.

I typed the Carissimi Group's website onto the Internet and started my research into the mysterious organization that funded money to underprivileged high school students to attend college.

 _Strategic Investment and Leadership with Profitable Results,_ announced small, bold print at the top of the page. I clicked on the Summer Internship Program tab of the careers section and it took me to a new page explaining the organization's mission and requirements to apply for the internship. As I began to read, Hanna paced back and forth anxiously.

"She won't even go to the police until she talks to Mr. D," she said, referring to her mom's decision to keep the scholarship money. "Isn't that like withholding evidence, or obstruction of justice or something?"

"I know your mom's hardly violating the omnibus clause," I responded.

"The what clause?" Hanna frowned. "You know what? I don't even care."

 _Or about anyone else's feelings_ , I thought to myself.

"The point is, I object," she continued. "The cops could have used that check to trace that scholarship right into A's wallet."

"Look, we don't need forensic accounting, Hanna," I told her, "but we need to figure out if the person signing those checks is actually Charles DiLaurentis."

Hanna leaned over the computer to see what I was looking at. "So you're gonna intern at the Carissimi Group?"

"It's an idea. The application deadline is…" I scrolled down the page and my heart sank in disappointment. "Two weeks ago."

"Yeah, and they only give internships for college credit," Hanna added. "We haven't even graduated high school yet." She looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know, I've always wondered about college credit. Is that like when you show up for class and they give you some money back? Because I could really be into that."

My tired face grew more agitated. "No, Hanna, college credit is…" I trailed off when a thought suddenly occurred to me. "What if we give the money back? We close your college account. We bring the scholarship back ourselves. If we wanna get inside the Carissimi Group, that money lets us right in the front door."

Hanna stared back at me with interest. But as I rested my left hand under my chin, her eyes bugged out.

"Oh my god, is that an engagement ring?" she cried, immediately reaching for my hand with the diamond ring. Hanna traced her finger over the petite, silver band, admiring the size of the generous karat.

"When did this happen? Did Toby propose?" She bombarded me with questions at such a tremendous speed that I didn't have time to process it.

"Did he propose because you're pregnant?" Hanna asked.

"No!" I said quickly, offended that she would jump to that conclusion.

"Sorry," Hanna said. She looked away, a dejected expression on her face.

I sighed. I could see that I had hurt her feelings. "Look, I don't know if we'll even have a huge wedding."

She turned to me sharply in disbelief. "What? You have to!"

I felt my chin drop in astonishment. "We're still in high school, Hanna."

"And we'll be graduating in two weeks." She stared at me with pleading eyes. "Please, Spencer, let me plan the wedding."

"Hanna!" I groaned.

"If you really love me, you'll let me do this for you." Hanna gave me a mischievous smile. "I bet Toby would love to have a traditional wedding."

I could see the wheels turning in her head and I bristled. It would just be typical Hanna to go behind my back to negotiate with Toby. He was a sucker for romance and sweet gestures.

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You're insufferable."

Hanna glared at me. "You would really get married without inviting any of us?"

"Can't I marry the love of my life in peace?" I protested.

"C'mon," she pleaded. "You know I love you like a sister. And you and Toby deserve to have one day of complete happiness. Not sneak off to Las Vegas in some cheap chapel."

I sighed in defeat. "Fine. But no feathers."

Hanna grinned. "So you and Toby are getting married."

My lips spread up into a huge, elated smile, unable to help myself. "Yes."

"Who's going to be your maid-of-honor?" she asked.

I furrowed my brow. "I haven't thought about it yet. But I don't want to make a big deal out of the wedding."

Her eyes shined. "It will be. You'll thank me later."

I groaned, and she took my left hand again.

"The ring is huge."

"It was Toby's mother's," I explained.

Hanna let go of my hand, the mood suddenly deflated. I knew how much Toby's mother meant to him and Hanna knew that she'd been brutally murdered while staying at Radley for treatment of her depression, even though Radley claimed her death had been an accident. It was a sour subject to say the least.

"We'll talk about wedding plans later," Hanna finally said, quickly changing the subject. "We'd better get going if we want to make it to the Carissimi Group. We need to return the money before my mom cashes in the check." She frowned, almost anxious.

"I'll meet you outside," I said standing up from the table. "I have to tell Toby where we're going. He's still sick."

Hanna nodded, then headed for the door. When I heard her footsteps disappear down the loft's hall, I walked upstairs to the bedroom.

Toby had changed into his blue plaid pajama bottoms, but his chest was bare. He looked all ready for bed. He was lying back against the pillows of the bed, reading _The Expectant Father–_ one of the many books on my list that I had suggested for him to prepare for the baby. Next to him on the bedside table was a stack of more pregnancy books for expectant fathers: _Dude, You're Gonna be a Dad, The Birth Partner, A Dude's Guide to Babies._

I smiled warmly at him. "You're reading the books."

Toby looked up from the page he was on. "I want to be ready for when the baby comes." He shut his book and set it down on top of the others.

I crawled onto the bed next to him and pressed my lips to his. "I love you."

He kissed me back. "I love you, too."

Suddenly, Toby's face went blank and panic settled in me, worried that he was hallucinating again. But then his cheeks flushed with color.

"Hey I got this for you while I was in Harrisburg." Toby dug through the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a necklace. A thin silver chain held a heart-shaped, pink rose quartz with tiny diamond clusters around the sides.

I took it lovingly. "Oh, Toby. It's beautiful."

"It's a rose quartz. They help keep expecting mothers calm and it protects the baby." He smiled. "Can I put it on for you?"

"Of course," I said.

I got off the bed and pulled my hair over my shoulder so Toby could gently fasten the necklace around my neck. I gazed at the rose quartz stone resting on my thin, delicate collarbone, admiring the way the pink swirled with pale purple glittered and sparkled against the sunlight. The rose quartz looked like rock candy; it was beautiful. As I touched the crystal, it felt alive and vibrant, as if it was sending powerful love into my soul.

Toby bent his head and kissed my neck pleasurably. When he took a handful of my dress in his fingers and skimmed his hand up my thigh, I knew he wanted to make love. I closed my eyes and moaned.

Turning, I pressed my body hard against his, aching for him. Toby groaned and cupped my breasts in his hands, making me want more.

I leaned over and nibbled his ear eagerly. "I want you to make love to me."

"Oh, I want that, too," he moaned.

I leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, making it hard for him to resist making love to me. He held my butt in his hand while sliding an arm around my upper back and picked me up, pressing me close against his bare chest. I squeezed my legs around his waist and wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers through his hair.

Toby set me down on top of the dresser facing our bed and spread apart my legs. He roamed his hands up and down my thighs, his eyes liquid with lust. The touch of his hands on my body spiked my hormones, creating a throbbing ache in between my thighs. I dove for his neck and nipped at the exposed skin. Toby let out a low growl and slid his tongue deeply into my mouth, devouring me.

I grabbed at his chest hungrily, dragging my nails down to his jeans, fiddling with the buttons. Toby growled again from my hands on his chest, shivering.

Then I slipped my hands inside his boxers and reached for him. "Mmmm," I moaned.

Toby closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure. "You're sexy."

He brought his mouth down firmly on mine as he glided his hand along the back of my neck. I grabbed his face in between my hands, kissing him back aggressively. Then I slid my dress up to my upper thighs, teasing him. The only underwear I was wearing was a pair of low-cut, black lacy thong-panties.

"Get inside me, please." I tugged gently at his member. "I'm _so_ ready for you. Have sex with me."

Toby cursed under his breath. He pushed my dress up further, above my hips where my thong lay exposed.

His fingers brushed over the lace in desire and wonder. "You're wearing a thong," he mused.

"My dress was too short for panties," I pouted.

In that instant, Toby's hands moved to the waistband of my thong and tugged it off. I pulled his shirt off over his head as he took off my dress, tossing it aside. My body shook with the anticipation.

Toby kissed up my bare skin, then planted several wet kisses along my neck. I closed my eyes and parted my lips in a sigh.

My hands flew to the zipper on his jeans, tugging them down, when Toby gently encircled my wrists in his hands. His eyes were very soft and tender. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." I wanted this; I was hungry for him.

Toby kicked off his jeans, and I hastily ripped off his boxer briefs. I couldn't wait anymore. I wanted this _now_.

He cupped my cheek while he brought his mouth down hard on mine, gently brushing his hand through my hair down to my body. I opened my mouth wide for him and twisted my tongue with his, breathing in his oxygen.

When the kiss broke, I slid my hands up the sides of Toby's face. Our mouths hung open in throaty moans, panting hard. I arched my back as Toby skimmed his hands up my sides, sucking on my stomach. His lips trailed up to my breasts and I hitched my knee to his hip, whimpering.

Finally, Toby melted in between my legs and entered me slowly, grasping my naked hips while I locked my legs around him. He moved in deeply, gently grinding against me. I tugged at his hair and cried out in pleasure, feeling his large member fill me up.

"Oohhhhh!" I moaned.

He hardened inside me, thrusting firmly and sensually. Such was the pleasure that he gave me. I licked his chest and started to brush my bare breasts against him, rubbing my body slowly and pleasurably.

Toby groaned in response. "God, you feel so good."

I roamed my hands all over his muscular back, tracing the shape of his biceps, bringing him closer to me. I finally understood what the joy of sex felt like.

Jess

By the time I got home from Aria's, I was filled with the urge to run upstairs and crawl into bed, hide in my room, and not think about Charles or anything else. I parked my Honda Civic in the cobble-stone driveway at the cabin and stepped out.

Frustrated, I peered out over the empty yard. Even though my Aunt Chloe only used the cabin during the summers, the grass and plants were trimmed and well-kept. I imagined she must have had one of her neighbors come out here to care for it while she was home in California. With a sigh, I opened the mailbox by the gate leading up to the cabin and pulled out the pile, absentmindedly flipping through the old mail. It was mostly the usual house bills, some cards sent from family relatives, and a brochure addressed to my aunt from the DiLaurentis real estate. A part of me hoped maybe my mom had sent Aunt Chloe any letters. If she was out there somewhere, her sister would be the first person she'd reach out to. But there was nothing I could find that indicated my mom had done otherwise.

Suddenly, I saw an envelope with my name typed neatly on the front and frowned. The return address said, _Cardillo Arts Fellowship_.

I tore open the envelope and read the letter:

 _Dear Miss Clarke,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to be a finalist in the prestigious and selective Cardillo Arts Fellowship Annual Painting and Photography Competition._

 _It is a tremendous honor to be selected by the Cardillo Arts Fellowship to participate in the highly competitive Annual Painting and Photography Competition. As such, we will expect you to adhere to the standards and practices outlined by the fellowship._

 _Final judging will take place at our gala event in Philadelphia and all contestants are invited to attend. The Grand Prize is an award of $20,000 and a summer internship at an elite art gallery in New York._

 _Congratulations and we wish you the best of luck!_

I read the acceptance letter three times just to make sure it hadn't been sent to someone else by mistake, but there was no misspelling or an error of any kind. My chest tightened with panic. I never applied for any art competitions–I'd never even heard of the Cardillo Arts Fellowship. Why would someone anonymously apply me for the most prestigious art gallery in Pennsylvania?

A summer art internship. An art show. I must have been dreaming. Of all the five hundred applicants, I was chosen to display my artwork at the prestigious Philadelphia art gallery. But the other artists were probably more talented and more capable than I was. There was no way that I would stand out. I probably wouldn't win even if I did decide to go.

I sighed and shoved the letter into the bottom of my black studded messenger bag, wanting to forget about it. Inside the cabin, I put the rest of the mail on the oak-wooden kitchen table and went upstairs to the bathroom. I opened the cabinet mirror over the sink and took two Acetaminophen pills from the medicine bottle for the pain in my neck that my doctor had prescribed to me.

I touched the spot on my neck where Charles had tried to strangle me. The purplish bruises had faded to a soft yellow, though it was still red and swollen around the edges. A sudden fury rushed through me as the memory of Charles' latest attempt to kill me flashed in front of my eyes. Of me, running to Jason before the sadistic Big Bad A could get close to him. Feeling powerless when Charles had put his hands on me, the burning pain of his fingers pressing hard against my throat and not being strong enough to stop him. I'd felt so terrified and helpless that all I could think about was how I wanted someone to come in and protect me. And I _hated_ that feeling. I hated Charles for making me feel this way, of feeling unsafe and weak. But more than anything, I wanted to kill this feeling. And then somehow, miraculously, those hands released me and I'd fallen to the ground. It was Jason, saving me from Charles' death grip.

Charles wanted me dead. There was nothing I could do to stop that or of his evil A plans. He was coming for me, whether I was asking for it or not. And all I could do was sit back and wait for Charles to kill me. In anger, I clenched my hand into a fist and smashed the mirror in front of me. I hit it again and again until my knuckles bled.

I stared back at my reflection in the mirror, the cracks in the glass zigzagging across my face like cuts. I almost couldn't recognize myself. I could feel a confusing darkness swirling inside me, clawing its way to the surface. It was yearning to break free, gloating with the anticipation to take me, but I held it in.

It would be so easy to let the darkness take over. To go down this dark path–the same one Charles must have taken when he was left at Radley–and follow the unspeakable, terrible things that were lurking there. Maybe I was just as diabolical as A. with a shudder, I realized that I didn't know who I was anymore.

Feeling scared and unsettled, I pulled on my crimson-red leather jacket and walked downstairs to grab my bag. I started stuffing all my schoolbooks and notebooks inside, including my old sketchbook that had been worn and frayed at the edges from years of drawing. The front cover was decorated in swirls and mazes of complicated lines, curling into intricate tree branches.

I nervously checked my class schedule twice before slinging the strap over my shoulder and heading back out to my car, though I kept going over it, trying to memorize it. I didn't want to walk around the school campus like an idiot with no idea where I was going. _You can do this_ , I tried assuring myself. _It's no big deal._ But I sounded about as convincing as a third degree murderer.

Today was my first day at Rosewood High and I was jittering with nerves. I'd been going to Fairfield High my whole life, but I knew when I enrolled at Rosewood High School that I'd made the right choice. I needed things to be different this time. And with graduation creeping up, I needed a scholarship to be able to pay for my college tuition. Probably a university somewhere local, like Maine. And it wasn't like my mom was in any position to pay for it, and my dad would drag me home kicking and screaming if he knew where I was.

When I pulled into the parking lot at Rosewood High School, I cut the engine, then peered up at the massive front entrance. The school wasn't as old as some of the restored colonial mansions here in Rosewood, but it was built in the same style: redbrick with two-story high white pillars, and there was matching white moldings around the doors and the windows. Which had once been a community center, the place was rebuilt in 1947, cofounded by the wealthiest people in Pennsylvania to open it as a public high school. Most of the building's historical details had been torn down to put in a swimming pool, a basketball court, and meeting rooms for the school clubs.

I pulled my charcoal-grey wool knit beanie down over my forehead as I descended the high school's stone steps and stepped inside, crowded with students swarming the courtyard. People stopped to stare, gawking at me and whispering to their friends. I was expecting that. During the short time that I'd been here in Rosewood, people had already started gossiping about me behind my back. Apparently, I'd slept with the boys' basketball team while getting high on Cocaine. Quite a reputation I had.

I looked around. The hallway walls were covered with activity clubs, announcements for bake sales, and swim meets. At Fairfield High–which was funded by alumnus who founded the small school–everything looked crumbling and cramped. Rosewood High felt like a monstrous museum in contrast, the campus redone with old classrooms and newish wings. The wide hallways and enormous courtyard made it seem so much bigger.

I took out my schedule and looked at it. My first class was AP English with Ms. Montgomery, Aria's mom.

I walked down the sparkling-clean linoleum hall to room 110 and hesitated in the classroom doorway. It was bigger than I'd expected, with oversize, four-paned windows facing the east lawn and acres of green-leafed sugar maple trees. There were a few great Shakespearean posters plastered on the walls next to the blackboard.

Ezra Fitz stood at the front of the room in a white button-down shirt and navy blue tie, his dark curls brushed out of his face. He was writing something on the blackboard, but stopped halfway when he saw me come in. He leaned over his wide, heavy wooden desk to pick up the class sheet.

His eyes scanned the piece of paper before addressing me. "Jessica Clarke?"

I stepped cautiously into the classroom, confused. "It's just Jess. I thought Ms. Montgomery was teaching this class?"

I glanced toward the rows of desks and noticed Aria sitting in the back with the other girls. At least some things still seemed normal.

"She is," Ezra said. "Ms. Montgomery is out sick with the flu, so I'll be taking over until she comes back."

I gave him a tight smile. "Great."

Ezra gestured to the back of the classroom. "Well, take a seat."

I slid into the seat at the desk across from Spencer and gritted my teeth. I'd rather have pencils stabbed in my eye than spend an hour every day with Ezra. Not to mention that I'd be forced to watch him and Aria exchange longing, lovesick glances with each other. It'd be like watching their very own personal play of forbidden love, which only made it that much more horrifying.

Hanna sauntered into the room just as the bell rang, sinking dramatically into her chair. She regarded me slightly.

I turned away from her sharply. After our fight at Aria's house, I wasn't interested in playing nice. Despite the fact that Ali was struggling with the realization that her long-lost brother was A, Hanna was still angry and biter over everything that he'd put us through. But this morning, I saw a side of Hanna that I hadn't before. She'd verbally attacked Ali for pitying Charles, and I couldn't forgive her just yet for being so cruel.

"Okay, class," Ezra said. He continued writing on the board and then underlined his bold, angular handwriting.

We were discussing _The Great Gatsby_. I'd already read it at my other school and I knew the material fairly well.

Mr. Fitz turned to the class. "In Fitzgerald's _The Great Gatsby_ , Jay believes he can change his past with Daisy. How can the past set us free? Can anyone think of things in every day life that relate to themes of being stuck in the past? What is it about the past that allows us to move forward, but also leaves us stuck where we are?"

I wrote down what Ezra was saying in my notebook while he talked about the book's themes. I saw him flash Aria a tiny smile, and I rolled my eyes. Aria had hooked up with Ezra–Mr. Fitz–a year after Aria's family had returned from Iceland when Alison went missing, before either of them knew he would be her new AP English teacher. He had been the one who ended things, saying that starting a relationship would be wrong. But after trying to stay away from each other, Aria and Ezra couldn't deny their feelings any longer and continued their illicit affair. She'd bared her soul to him about The Jenna Thing, and afterward, Aria had learned Ezra knew her before they met and was only using her to write a book on Alison, about how she used everyone's secrets as weapons, the way she manipulated people to get what she wanted, and how lying was her oxygen. Aria couldn't trust Ezra again and broke up with him for the last time.

Spencer raised her hand. "The past is what people hold onto so they can learn from their mistakes, but it also helps them realize what they truly want in life. Without a past, there's no future."

Ezra nodded in satisfaction. "Great." His eyes rested on Aria for a moment before turning to my row. "Jess? How about you? Any thoughts?"

I smirked at him. "How about when a teacher takes advantage of a younger girl and tries to exploit her? Would it be something like that?"

Ezra paled. "I…uh, no." He cleared his throat. "That's not really relevant to the story."

"The past is a waste of time," I answered. "It doesn't matter how much a person changes or how hard they try to move forward, the past always comes back to bite you in the ass. People will only choose to see you one way."

He held my gaze. "That's one way of looking at it."

My shoulders went rigid. I knew what he was doing. Ezra was trying to push my buttons, but I wasn't going to let him get to me. I returned his intimidating stare with cold, narrowed eyes.

"Well, anyway," Ezra said, without taking his eyes off me, "I want everyone to read chapters five through ten this week, and write a three-page essay on any themes you see in the book due on Friday."

Everyone in the class groaned and the bell rang through the loudspeaker, a high-pitched sound. I reached down to pick up my bag off the floor and stuffed my pen and notebook inside.

Hanna slid her green Rebecca Minkoff purse onto her shoulder and shot up from her seat as if it were on fire. So it was going to be one of those days.

As I headed for the door, Ezra stopped me. "Jess, can I speak to you for a moment?"

Everyone turned to look at me. I couldn't go anywhere in this school without meeting scrutinizing eyes.

I hesitated at the front of the room and glanced hopelessly at the door, so close to freedom. Everyone else filtered out of the room and into the hall, walking to their next class.

I sighed quietly. "Sure."

Ezra opened the bottom left drawer of his desk and pulled out a copy of _The Great Gatsby._ "Just in case you didn't have a chance to read it at your other school."

I took the book from him. "I've already read it." I didn't mention that I'd read _The Great Gatsby_ twice and nailed my essay with an A plus–there was no need to brag about it.

Ezra leaned against his oak wooden desk. "Well, I also wanted to talk to you about your SAT scores from your last school."

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "What about them?"

"Your old school transferred over your transcripts and it says you got a 2350 on your SATs," Ezra said. "That's good enough to get into Yale."

I eyed him suspiciously. "How did you know I want to go to Yale?"

"It said in your permanent file that you applied, but you never went to the college tour." He looked at me gently. "Jess, you have the opportunity to really excel and I'd hate to see you throw that all away just because you're afraid of rejection. I know a professor at Yale, and I could set up a meeting for you."

"Is this the part where you invite me over to help 'tutor' me for my college essay?" I quipped. "Get me to let my guard down and reveal my deepest, darkest secret?"

Ezra paused. "Look, I don't know what you know, but I know how close you are to Alison, so I'm going to assume she told you everything that happened."

"She gave me the cliff notes version," I replied, "which is pretty generous for Ali."

"Maybe we should discuss this outside of a classroom," he suggested.

"If you think I'm going to talk to you alone, you're insane." I scoffed. "That was my best friend. What could you possibly get out of destroying her life?"

Ezra ran a hand through his hair. "I've made some mistakes I'm not proud of–"

"Oh, save it," I snapped. "Your artistic poems and romantic black and white films may work on Aria, but you don't fool me."

Ezra reached into his leather briefcase and took out a business card. After scribbling something on the back of it, he handed it to me. "If you change your mind, you can call this professor at Yale University."

"I'm fine, thank you," I responded cooly. As far as I knew, Ezra was like every other sleazy, lying guy in the world.

I turned for the door, then strode out of the classroom. I suddenly couldn't wait for the school day to be over.

I tried to stay away from Jason, but it was hard when he consumed most of my thoughts.

School let out at three P.M. When I made it out to the parking lot, I was one of the only few cars left. It felt good to be alone, not having to worry about the next plan on how to take down A or tolerate another one of Hanna's bitchy comments.

But now that I was finally alone, I had nowhere to go. I didn't want to go home and I couldn't go to Josh's motel room at The Edgewood Motor Court for obvious reasons. Payton was still hiding out in a bunker somewhere in Bucks County, and I didn't have the brain space to go look for him. I was used to being alone, though at times the silence could be unbearable. Suddenly, I felt so helpless and lost. I didn't have a place here in Rosewood, but I didn't belong in Ohio either. It was like I had no home.

I started my car and peeled out of the lot, with absolutely no plans of where I was going. About a block away from the school, I stopped at a red light. The street across from me was clustered with fancy bistros, shopping marts, townhomes, and upscale boutiques. But the building that stood out the most was a gigantic estate company in the corner, nearly taking up the entire block.

It had to be at least two stories tall, towering over the other buildings in stark white paint, with gold accents around the glass windows and doors. It was rectangular and well proportioned, and all the windows and doors had been restored from its original structure.

Without thinking about it, I turned sharply at the street, parked, and got out. I pushed through the doors of the DiLaurentis Commercial Properties Office, recalling back when Jason first started drinking. After he left the Livengrin Counseling Center for alcoholism and drug addiction, he taught himself Muay Thai–kickboxing–as a distraction from drinking again. Jason spent every weekday at the gym, training and focusing his anger on punching bags, then became an advanced boxer.

If A was going to come after me, then I needed to be prepared. I needed Jason to teach me how to fight.

The inside of the estate office was big with wide halls, the slanted wood floors gleaming from the modern oil lamps that hung from the walls. The building smelled of old leather and cleaning polish. To my left and right, framed pictures of the old Rosewood founders covered the walls.

I walked down the hall to room 106, the office where Jason worked with his dad in real estate development. I heard raised voices behind the closed wooden door as I strode into Mr. DiLaurentis' office.

"Dad, I know how important the new development is." Jason stood at a large mahogany wooden desk that held a box of manila file folders and a green banker's desk lamp, talking into an office phone.

I hesitated in the doorway, but Jason saw me and gestured for me to come in.

The voice on the other end of the line said something, and he sighed. "I'll make sure we sell the houses by winter."

I examined the scale model of one of the development homes sitting on a table by the window while Jason argued with his dad on the phone. It contained a miniature version of a traditional red Victorian house, made from paper and cardboard on an apple-green landscape. There was an imaginary cobblestone pathway leading up to hedges and rose bushes of the house's yard.

There was a pause over the phone. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose with his two fingers and let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Yeah. Okay, bye." He ended the call.

"Is this a bad time?" I asked shyly.

Jason gave me a small smile. "No, sorry. It's just these contractors my dad hired lost half of the concrete at the last minute. We're building some new model homes and it's taking a little bit longer than I thought." He groaned. "And my dad won't let me forget it."

"Anything I can do to help?" I offered.

He half-smiled. "Not unless you can build a 24-foot million dollar home before December."

I glanced down at the files and papers scattered on his desk. "Real estate or construction?"

"My dad is in real estate development," he answered. "He hires carpenters to build the homes and gives tours to potential buyers who are interested in the property. And I redesign the interior of the house. I'm in charge of the contractors, the architects, planning and zoning commission."

"The zombie apocalypse," I added playfully.

Jason laughed at my joke, and his blue eyes sparkled.

"Is that a smile?" I teased.

He smiled back, looking allured. Then he gazed at the yellowish bruise fading on my neck and frowned.

"I'm okay," I assured him, crossing my arms over my chest. "You don't always have to protect me."

"I can't help it." His eyes were steady on me, making my heart pitter-pat.

I lifted my chin up confidently, then met his eyes directly. "I need you to teach me how to fight."

Jason clenched his jaw and his eyes tightened. "No."

I scrunched up my eyebrows. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"Because I know you. The second that I train you, you're going to take the fight to Charles."

I bristled. "So what if I am? He tried to kill me!"

Jason folded his arms over his chest. "And what happens if you get overconfident and find yourself in a situation that you can't handle?"

"I can handle it," I said through gritted teeth.

His face turned hard. "I'm not training you."

"I am tired of feeling defenseless and being looked at as an easy target," I shot back. "Look, I'm going to learn how to fight with or without your help."

A tense silence filled the room with the two of us staring each other down, waiting to see who would surrender first. Finally, Jason inhaled a deep breath. "Fine. Meet me at the 12th Street Gym tomorrow at eleven."

I shot him a triumphant smile. "Great. I'll be there."

The sky was clear and blue when I walked back out to my car. Beneath the perfect façade, Rosewood was crawling with deceit and murderers.

As I drove home, I passed Aria's street. The Montgomery's postmodern Craftsman-style house stuck out in the typical Rosewood neighborhood of classic Victorians, right in the center of the block. Emily's house was next door, and Spencer's house and the Cavanaughs' was across the street. I saw Aria in the upstairs window of her house, taking pictures with a Nikon DSLR camera. As she lifted the camera to snap another picture, she saw me, smiled, and waved.

I froze. Outside of Spencer, Hanna, Emily and Alison, Aria and I never spoke. I didn't even know that she was an artist or that she liked photography. The only person in the group who I felt connected to was Ali. She wasn't the perfect friend to everyone, but for all her flaws, I always knew that I could count on her. At least with Ali, I knew where I stood.

The front door to the Montgomery's house opened and Aria stepped out onto the porch. As she neared me, I parked my Toyota on the side of the road and got out, joining her in the side driveway.

Aria smiled. "Hey."

"Hi," I said awkwardly. I wasn't used to making friends, nor was I a people person. The popularity thing had always been Ali's forte.

Aria wore a black snake-print sleeveless tank top, paired with dark blue jeans and black leather boots that went well over her knees. Her short, straight black hair framed her lovely angular face and her petite frame was graceful, like a ballerina, even though she was a good four inches shorter than me. There was something about her outfit that stood out–it was artsy, yet edgy and endearing. It reminded me of myself, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to her because of it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," I said.

"You weren't," Aria answered. "I was just taking pictures for this art gallery opening tonight. They're going to display my work."

My eyes widened in surprise. "You're going to that?"

Aria beamed. "Yeah, I got my letter in the mail yesterday." She frowned. "Wait, how do you know about it?"

"Um, I got a letter, too," I stammered. "For the painting award, not the photography one. But I don't know if I'm going."

"Oh." I thought I saw a hint of jealousy glimmering in her eye. "Me neither."

"Why not?" I asked.

She sighed. "My parents are going to my brother's sports banquet tonight. My mom thinks it's better that we stay close to home."

"You should go," I encouraged. "Aren't there cop cars watching your house twenty-four seven anyway?"

Aria shook her head. "I already talked to Tanner. I'm not sure if my mom is going to let me go even with cops following me."

We stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds. I paused, wanting to tell Aria about what Jonny did to Ali and I, but then wondered if it would be too weird to confide in her about something like that when we'd only just met.

I gave her a half smile. "Well, if you decide to come, good luck tonight."

"Thanks," Aria replied. "You, too."

I waved goodbye and then turned for my car.

When I got home, I pulled down the ladder from the hallway that led upstairs to the attic. I could hear the familiar creaking of wood as I climbed up. My aunt used the attic for storing all the things she didn't use anymore–clothes, family albums, old childhood toys, and a vintage lamp that belonged to my grandmother.

Finally, I spotted the big, blue plastic bin that had KRISTIN written across the side in thick, black Sharpie. I knew this had to be where Aunt Chloe kept all of my mother's things from they were teenagers. I kneeled down beside it and dug through until I found what I was looking for.

I pulled out my portfolio of paintings and drawings that I'd done over the years, flipping through the pages. Each one was flooded with beautiful, vivid colors, charcoal drawn in contrast between dark and light, and rich swirls of palettes and oil paints.

I traced my fingers over the delicate lines and details of the pictures, over mountain ranges and oceans and the beautiful, towering structure of the Eiffel Tower. I knew my artwork by heart. I could identify myself with every shape, every raw, real emotion conveyed on the pages, nearly identical to my own. The curves and lines of the autumn tree-lined road; the moss green of the dewy forests; a blonde girl's familiar heart-shaped face and sparkling blue eyes, overflowing with emotion and color. I could even see the riverbank of the creek, the deep blues of water gushing over the huge gray rocks; the dull brown logs strewn across the stream with otters and singing frogs; gnarled old weeping willow trees, the branches red and fiery, with tints of soft gold.

I stopped painting after my mom left, which felt strange since art was such a huge part of who I was. Art helped me escape when I felt suffocated and trapped, convicted with the certainty that there was another world outside of Fairfield–an exotic and beautiful place. And it called to me. There was a whole world waiting for me. My mother, once the owner of an art gallery in Fairfield, was an artist as well and even sold her own pieces. It was a secret language that we both shared, bonding us together as mother and daughter. For as long as I could remember, I'd been consumed with the desire not only to paint, but to someday show my art to the world like my mom.

And I was good, too. Surprisingly good, a talent that I'd inherited from my mom. And because of my mother's connections to famous artists from her gallery, they were very aware of my abilities as well. Slowly, word began to spread of my talents. A few articles in the art Juxtapoz magazines followed quickly after that, along with a long piece in _The New York Times,_ focusing on my 'gift.' Eventually, it led to one of my paintings being showcased at the Cleveland Museum of Art in the Young Artists contest that was hosted by my school when I was eleven. It had been the highlight of my life and my mother's. I'd won first prize, and the museum kept my painting as one of their pieces for the art gallery. It was a rare opportunity to display my art. Nobody knew that better than I did, except maybe my mom. It had happened so long ago that I doubted anyone even remembered my big moment. Or even cared. Unless you painted famous oil paintings like Picasso for people to hang up in their museums, special artistic ability meant nothing.

But there were still so many things I wanted to do. I wanted to travel the world, to see things that nobody else has seen, to paint and draw everything. I wanted to walk the rainy streets of London; I wanted to drink coffee and eat heavenly pastries at a café in Paris; I wanted to wander the hot deserts of Egypt and explore the pyramids; I wanted to go to Africa and see a cheetah, miles away into the wild. My life ambition was to one day be a famous artist. I was only eighteen, yet there was still so much to see, to touch, to taste and to explore. I wanted it all. And more than anything else, I wanted to paint things that would mean something to someone, to capture the feeling that my art mattered to someone. A beauty that had more to do with the strange, uneven shapes drawn onto paper, zigzagged and twisting into another creation entirely. The landscapes of mountains covered with pure white snow and lush green forests, skies that seemed to go on for miles, extending from light blue to a pale pink and golden hues of orange, and enchanting romantic forests. But if I couldn't capture that feeling, then it wasn't worth it. Art had saved me; I didn't want to grow up hating it. It was too important to me. Plus, it was the only thing I had left of my mother before she'd disappeared.

As I searched through the remainder of the bin, my hand brushed against my mother's old cheerleading uniform. I pulled it out slowly, holding the red and yellow skirt and top in my hands. The initials FH were emblazoned in the left corner of the shirt. It was a keepsake of my mother's glory days as a cheerleader when she was in high school.

A familiar 1994 high school yearbook stared back at me from underneath–not only had I seen it countless times at my house in Ohio, but there were senior year portraits of my mother and father at their perspective high schools in our family albums. I opened up the middle of the thick book and started flipping through it. Amidst the Most Likely to Succeed and Class Sweetheart, my mom, Kristin Clarke, was Most Likely to Disappear off the Face of the Earth.

On one of the pages was a photo of my mom standing with an attractive blonde girl by a row of lockers, with their books clutched to their chests. She had long, straight blonde hair that fell past her shoulders, flawless ivory skin, high cheekbones, and stunning blue eyes. The girl was leaning over my mom, whispering something in her ear, and she was laughing hysterically. It reminded me of Sasha Stefani, my best friend back home, from Ohio.

I bit on the inside of my cheek. My mom had a whole other life that I didn't know about. I missed her so much that it hurt, despite the pain she'd caused me, and I wished more than anything that she was here.

I turned a page to the high school's prom, looking over pictures of the 90s dance that was arranged in a two-page layout, including one of the couple that were named king and queen. People who say the high school years were the best of their life were probably popular cheerleaders or school class president. I just hoped that the prom wasn't the most magical night of my life like it was for this golden couple… I froze.

In the center of the page, underneath a headline across the top that said, _Sweethearts_ , was my mom in a photo that I hadn't noticed at first. Her long, dark hair was pulled off her face, and a white rose corsage was tied around her wrist. She looked stunning in a red, sequined V-neck dress with thin spaghetti straps, and her cheeks were pink and flushed.

My mom had her arms looped around a dark-haired guy's neck on the dance floor, and he had his arms around her waist as they kissed passionately. I took a closer look at the guy in the photo, at his wavy black hair, adorable dimples, and full pink lips, and my jaw dropped. It was Gabriel Holbrook. _Detective_ Holbrook.

Gabe and my mom? What was he doing with her?

From the looks of it, they'd been crowned king and queen of the prom. My mom had a petite, yet elegant golden crown atop her head studded with diamonds and jewels, while Gabe bore a broader gold one with red gems. An odd, disturbing feeling settled over me. Unable to look at it anymore, I tore my eyes away from the picture and shut the yearbook, shoving it away at the bottom of the bin. I reached into the pocket of my red leather jacket for the Cardillo art gallery invitation and glanced at the front of the rectangular, glossy card, which showed four of the applicants' photographs and paintings in the competition. If Sasha were here right now, she'd want me to go.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket next and dialed Ali's number. She answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what are you doing right now?"

Later that evening, hours before the art opening, Alison stood in my bedroom holding up two of the dresses from the pile of clothes that she had brought over for me to try on. One was a long-sleeved, white lace dress and the other was a sexy, crimson-red halter dress that fell a few inches above the knee. Several of Ali's dresses were spread out on my bed, since I couldn't decide what I was going to wear to the Cardillo art show tonight.

"I like the white one," I told her.

Ali looked at the lace dress and frowned. "Yeah, but it's not short like the other one, so it won't show lots of leg."

"I don't know," I said uncertainly. "It's not really me."

She held the dress up to me. The neckline dipped dangerously low to the chest, and a silk bow was tied around the waist.

"You asked for my help," Ali reminded me. "It practically screams downtown art scene."

I gestured toward my bedroom closet. "I have a jacket in the closet in the back that'll work with that dress."

Alison set the dresses on the brown corduroy chair by my bed and opened the closet door, sifting through my clothes for my black leather jacket.

I shifted on the balls of my feet nervously. "So, did you text Spencer, Aria and Emily?"

"Yeah," she answered. "They said they'll meet us at the gallery."

"What about Josh?" I asked.

"I haven't heard back from him." Ali turned to me, looking concerned. "Are you guys okay?"

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "I don't know. We haven't talked since he got into that fight with Jason."

"It wasn't your fault," she tried to assure me, but I still couldn't help but feel responsible for the friction between Jason and Josh.

Josh and I hadn't spoken since our fight at the police station the other night. The last time I saw him, we'd both been so angry. And I was still furious with him for the way he'd treated Jason, blaming him for the reason we were all in danger. Jason had only been trying to protect me, which Josh been instinctively doing for me. But overnight, after Josh wouldn't return any of my phone calls or texts, the strength of my anger had morphed into irritation. Damn him for coming back to Rosewood to find me. Damn him for telling me that he loved me and making me feel confused about what it all meant. All I wanted was for things to go back to normal between us, but that seemed impossible now with my complicated feelings for Jason and A's latest schemes getting in the way.

As her fingers brushed against a lemon-yellow dress, Ali flashed accusing eyes at me. "Did you get your prom dress without me?" She sounded offended.

I raised my eyebrows at her in disbelief. "Prom? Are you kidding? Ali, I barely have time to send in my college applications without Charles harassing me every five minutes."

"Well, Spencer, Hanna and I are going to get our prom dresses at Le Femme Boutique," she said. "We're doing this fairytale theme for all our dresses. You should come. Spencer wants to match hers with Toby."

"It's not like we'll get to wear them anyway," I muttered.

Ali frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you read your email?" When she looked back at me in confusion, I continued. "Principal Hackett sent out a memo to me and our parents about prom. Apparently the school board is debating whether it's safe for us to go to prom."

Ali's face reddened with fury. "Because of what happened at the arcade? That's bull. They can't tell us not to go to our own prom!"

I shrugged. "Maybe it's for the best."

Ali gave me a look. "You don't care that we might not be able to go to our own prom? Jess, you've been dreaming of going to prom since we were twelve. You wanted to have a magical Cinderella night and find a prince to sweep you off your feet."

"That was before my mom left," I said bitterly. "Besides, I'm no longer that young, naïve girl anymore."

"There's nothing naïve about wanting to go to prom," she argued.

"Well, maybe I don't anymore."

"Where is all this coming from?" Ali demanded.

"This isn't about prom, okay?" I snapped. "This is about A deciding everything for us and controlling our lives. It's like we can't take a breath."

"You have to fight back," Ali urged. "After everything we've been through, we deserve to have one normal, high school experience. Especially if it's going to be the last thing we do before going off to college. We can pull all our money together to rent a limo and have dinner at Le Bec-Fin. They have a beautiful back patio with all these twinkle lights." She gave me a dazzling smile.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. "I hate it when you do that."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. "Is it working?"

"Maybe." I sighed. "Okay, _if_ I decide to go, you have to promise to be my prom buddy."

"What about Josh?" Ali asked.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you two make a pact sophomore year to be each other's prom date if neither of you had a date?"

"Oh, that," I said, recalling. "It's just that with everything going on, I think that it would be best if I went solo. So what do you say? Will you be my prom buddy?"

"I'd love to, but I think I might want to go with someone else."

"Who?"

Ali looked at me warily. "Lorenzo."

"Lorenzo?" I repeated, confused. "Isn't he Toby's partner?"

"Yeah," she answered timidly. Her cheeks flushed pink. I'd never seen Ali so shy and bashful before.

Then the awareness settled in. "Oh."

The only time I'd ever met Lorenzo was at the arcade last night, when the others and I had tried to catch Charles. While Lorenzo was trying to protect us from Charles, he'd gotten hurt in the process and broke his arm. And since I was still on Tanner's Most Wanted list not only for Jonny's petty art theft, but for getting involved with Ali's trial as well, being around him made me a little nervous. Ali had been known to get close to police officers in order to save herself and her friends from A–not that I could blame her. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what Lorenzo's true intentions were with Ali.

Alison wordlessly stepped away from the closet and laid back against the pillows on the bed. I joined her, lying beside her on top of the quilt.

I played with the ends of the braid of hair that hung at my shoulder with my fingers. "How long has this been going on?"

"Just a few weeks. I ran into him at church." She paused. "I know cops make you nervous since the whole Jonny thing."

"Don't worry about me," I assured her. "I just thought you didn't want to get involved with cops anymore after what happened with Holbrook."

A guilty look passed over Ali's face. "Gabe is a good guy. He was just trying to help us."

I rolled my eyes. "I know that. But I don't want you getting yourself into another situation that you can't handle. That's how you got framed for Mona's fake death, remember?"

Ali sighed. "Believe me, I remember. But Lorenzo isn't like that."

I looked at her suspiciously. "Did you two kiss?"

"Yeah. He kissed me outside the front porch the night Spencer, Hanna, Aria and Emily broke into Radley." A blush rose to her cheeks.

I gave her a teasing smile. "Open-mouth or closed?"

She hit me playfully. "Shut up."

"Have you asked him to prom?" I asked.

Ali snorted. "Right, that's just what Lorenzo wants. To go back to high school. And prom is kind of a couples thing anyway."

"Then we'll go as a group," I offered.

Alison curled her fingers around mine, squeezing my hand. "Thanks."

I squeezed her hand back. "What are friends for?" I paused, an unsettling realization washing over me. "Wait, isn't Lorenzo investigating your dad about Charles?"

"Yeah, he's been keeping me up to date on what's going on."

"What about Toby? What does he know about all this?"

Ali looked at me pointedly. "Jess, Toby hates me. I don't see the point of telling him."

"You can change that," I said. "You could apologize."

Alison let out a long breath. "What am I supposed to say? 'Sorry for sending you away to juvie?'"

"Oh, so you'll apologize to a ninth-grade bully, but not to Toby?" I questioned in disbelief, referring to Paige.

Paige McCullers was a girl in our grade who used to be on the field hockey team with Alison and Spencer until she got kicked off the team for being too aggressive. Alison was the only ninth grader besides Spencer to make the varsity team. Paige tackled Ali and threw constant punches at her during practice to prove that she was better than everyone else, especially Ali.

Ali frowned. "What are you talking about?"

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Paige McCullers? The girl you used to call Pigskin for throwing you around in field hockey?"

She looked away. "That was different."

"Ali, you can't put your head under the sand and pretend it didn't happen."

"He doesn't want to hear what I have to say."

"You have to talk to him," I pushed. "Otherwise, this is never going to go away."

She lifted her blue eyes to mine. "Fine. I'll talk to him after the art gallery opening tonight."

I smiled. "Good."

Ali changed the subject to something lighter. "So are you really going to prom alone?"

"I won't be alone," I insisted. "I'll be with you and the girls. And I'm sure that Toby will give me one dance."

"What about Jason?" she asked. There was a playful note in her tone.

My head began to hurt. "If I go with him, I'm telling Josh that I'm choosing to be with him. But if I go with Josh, I'm telling Jason that I want to be with him. I just don't want to hurt anyone."

"You're going to have to choose, eventually," Ali told me.

"I know." I glanced at Ali, noting the way her forehead had crinkled. "I'll be fine. I'll go unescorted."

A weird, uncomfortable tension filled the room. While it was no secret that I had feelings for both Jason and Josh, I still couldn't help but feel guilty for putting Ali in the middle, even after she'd given me her blessing to be with Jason. Alison's brother was a sensitive subject, and I couldn't bare the thought of her having to pick up the pieces because of me if I were the one who broke his heart. Rather than delve into another awkward conversation about Jason, I decided to confide in Ali about something else that had been bothering me: the picture I'd found earlier of my mother and Gabe.

As much as I wanted to believe that it was just another one of my mom's past flings in high school, seeing the prom photo had struck something in me and I couldn't get it out of my head. The thought of my mom and Gabe together felt so wrong, like there was something I was missing, but I couldn't place where the strange feeling was coming from. This had to all be in my head.

"Did your mom ever say anything about my mom and Gabe?" I asked her.

Ali knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "No, why?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should go on. It felt weird for me to talk about, but I had to tell _someone_.

"Jess, what is it?" she prodded.

I let out a long breath. "I found this picture from my mom's old yearbook of her and Gabe at the prom. It looked like they were, like, a couple or something." My eyes flickered up to hers. "Did you know anything about that?"

"No," she answered, looking sincerely surprised. "My mom never told me anything about your mom and Gabe. Maybe it was just a fling."

"That's what I thought, too, but I can't help feeling like something is…off."

Her expression was disbelieving. "Look, everyone dates in high school. It doesn't mean anything."

"Right," I said sarcastically. "And I suppose Spencer and Toby are just a fling, too. And your mom and Spencer's dad didn't mean anything either."

Ali grew silent for a moment, pursing her lips. "There might be a way we can find out for sure." She stood up from the bed and turned for the door. "C'mon, maybe there's something in this house that can tell us."

I considered it briefly before answering. "Let's look in my aunt's room first. I know she keeps all of her private stuff in there." It was the perfect opportunity to snoop around. It wasn't like we were going to get caught–my Aunt Chloe hadn't been up at the cabin for months.

I grabbed Ali's hand and led her downstairs into my aunt's bedroom. The room smelled like floral perfume and mothballs, and when I flipped on the light switch, the lamplight above cast a warm glow over a modest, cherry-wooden sleigh bed that was pushed up against four-paneled windows. The quilted curtains were pulled together against the glass, concealing the thick woods that bordered the house.

While Ali searched in the bathroom, I started digging through the top drawer of my aunt's dresser and gazed at the framed pictures on top. The first photo was of my mother graduating from the University of Brown, Aunt Chloe's arms wrapped around her. The next was a photo of my mom holding me in her arms as a newborn baby, wrapped up in a lavender knit-wool blanket. Then, I saw a picture of me when I was twelve. It was a snapshot of me, Ali, and Josh crowded together on the dock by a lake. Jason was sitting next to us and had his arms around his then-girlfriend, Madison, his longish hair wet from swimming. Madison was wearing Jason's old lifeguard sweater and her long, loopy blonde hair fell past her shoulders, her crystal-blue eyes sparkling with excitement. From the looks of how much younger everyone looked, this picture must have been taken at Ali's family's beach cottage in South Carolina.

I blinked, startled to see myself so young and blissfully naïve. Nothing bad had happened yet–there was no A, I hadn't met Jonny yet, there were no secrets, Ali was still Ali, and Josh was still my best friend. The only thing that hadn't changed was my painful crush on Jason. As I looked more closely at the photo, I noticed Jason's hand was right next to mine and my pinkie finger was slid up in between his. I remembered it well; I'd tried to make it look like an accident, but Jason didn't try to pull away even while he was holding Madison.

I shut my eyes, trying to shake my jumble of mixed feelings. "My aunt keeps everything in cabinets," I explained to Ali, moving on to the bottom dresser drawer next. "If there's something about Gabe and my mom, it'll be in here."

"Have you tried her trunk?" Ali called from the bathroom.

"Her what?"

"Her trunk," she repeated. "It's at the foot of her bed."

I glanced towards the bed and spotted a white padded Ottoman footboard-bench chest, and made a beeline for it. I kneeled down in front of the trunk and pulled up the seat. Inside were cotton and fleece blankets stored away for the winter months, shoeboxes of photos, a collection of romance-mystery books, and finally, a thick stack of envelopes tied together with a rubberband. Curious, I picked up the envelopes and started thumbing through them. There were tons of letters all addressed to Aunt Chloe, but none of them had a return sender. The only thing I could tell from the notes was that the person who'd sent them had written them in neat, D'Nealian cursive that had gotten smudged over the years and the postmarks had faded slightly.

I folded one of the letters back inside the envelope and kept looking. I read through a few more letters, but neither one of them made any sense whatsoever. Sighing, I picked up a purple quill pen at the bottom of the trunk and fluffed its feathery ends, which I could only assume my aunt had used to write to her mysterious pen pal.

Ali emerged from the bathroom, noting the piles of envelopes and letters around me. "Did you find anything?"

I shook my head. "No. Maybe you're right, maybe that picture at prom didn't mean anything."

"What about that one?" She pointed to a rose-printed lavender, square-shaped envelope that was peeking out from beneath a fluffy rug.

I reached for it and turned it over in my hands. Ali sat down beside me and leaned over to look. _Gabriel Holbrook_ was handwritten on the back of the envelope in the same script.

"Oh my god," Ali whispered.

With trembling hands, I ripped out the letter from inside and began to read.

 _Dear Kris,_

 _I've been staring at this blank page for the last two hours, struggling with what to say to you. I wish that you were here with me right now so that I could see your beautiful smile, to touch you one last time. But I know that's not possible and the thought tears me up inside. So here goes._

 _First, I want you to know how much I love you and always will. And how much you mean to me, that the days I've spent with you have been the happiest of my life. So much had happened to me and to my dad that I'd stopped believing in love. But when I met you, I started to wonder if the universe had set me on a destined path, even if I couldn't see it yet, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that we were meant to be together. I know I made you a promise to marry you someday, but I honestly can't fathom why life keeps getting in between us. Maybe it was just our different worlds that tore us apart. You have new commitments now that you want to keep and I understand. I can only love you more for that. You need to keep Jess safe, to make her feel loved and cherished, because she deserves the moon and the stars. You're kind and honest, and you forgive people even when they don't deserve it, and that is what is makes you an incredible mother._

 _You and I had something powerful and magical and pure, and I never want you to forget that. Nor do I want you to believe that you didn't mean as much to me as I did to you. When we were together, we were so connected that I don't think either of us truly understood it. You're beautiful and unique in every way. I fell in love with your heart, your soul, your resilient spirit. But more than that, you taught me what true love really is and I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. You changed my life._

 _I hated the times we fought, and I blamed myself for it. I know it sounds like I'm making excuses, but please believe me when I say that I never regretted falling in love with you or for making the decision to have Jess. She is single-handedly the most beautiful and precious gift anyone could have ever given me. I understand why you blame me for what happened between us, for not fighting hard enough, just as I'll understand if you hate me. Part of me hates me, too, as hard as it is for you to believe. Please forgive me and know that being away from you and Jess is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My life without you has been empty and meaningless. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about you and our baby girl. I remember everything we've been through together. I remember when I first set eyes on you and feeling like I was finally home, and I remember the night we first kissed. When I close my eyes, I hear your voice and see your face, and feel your heart beating against mine as one. And that's how I always want to remember you. Wherever you are, just look at the full moon in the night sky–just like we did the first time we met–and think of me and the moments we shared. If we can't be together again, then at least we can share that between the two of us forever._

 _You will always be a part of me, and in that sense, our souls will forever be linked. And you have a special place in my heart that no one can ever replace. I hope to see you and Jess again some day. If I don't, I need you to know that no matter what happens, I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. But I love who I am when I'm with you, Kristin. You're my best friend, my deepest love. You are the very best of me, you made me the man I am today._

 _Forever yours,_

 _Gabe_

It wasn't until I finished reading the letter that I realized there were tears in my eyes. I stared at it for a long time, my hand clamped to my mouth. A mixture of different emotions hit me then: anger, confusion, betrayal. Did this mean that Gabe was my…father? I was so angry that the writing on the page began to blur in front of me.

Attached to the letter was a square snapshot of my mother when she was eight months pregnant with me. She and a much younger Gabe stood close together, his hand on her stomach. Behind them was an old, one story Bungalow-style house. I immediately recognized it as the first home that my mother and I lived in when I was just a baby. My mom had me during her freshman year at college and couldn't afford nice, big houses like the DiLaurentis' multi-million dollar Victorian, until my father, William, came along and swept my mother off her feet. Did my dad kick Gabe out of the house? Was he so threatened by his ties to me that he ran him out of town?

My fingers crumpled the edges of the letter in blind fury. It was hard to believe that this was even real. Did my mom know? Did my dad beat me so aggressively because he knew I wasn't his daughter? And why would my aunt keep something like this from me? If what the letter said was true, that meant my whole life had been one big lie.

The more I thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. My father and I looked nothing alike. And I'd always wondered why he didn't love me and pretended I didn't exist, except when he would slap and kick me. It explained a lot of other things, too. Like why my Aunt Chloe never seemed to like my dad. Often I'd hear them arguing when she'd come over to visit and the two of them had sounded so angry. My mom usually had to intervene before a fight could break out. I'd always thought Aunt Chloe didn't like my dad because his family came from money, and he'd come off as being arrogant and talked down to my mom in front of her. Maybe it had nothing to do with his powerful personality. And maybe the reason why my dad hit me was because he knew I wasn't really a Clarke. But then why hadn't my mom told me all those years ago? Why did she keep me from my real dad? Coming from a different father wasn't scandalous. Parents got remarried all the time and would sometimes have kids with their new spouses.

Alison's eyes widened. "Are you okay?"

"No." I struggled to choke back a sob.

Before I could react, Ali wrapped her arms around me and was hugging me. As I hugged her back, everything I had been feeling started to bubble over, like I was a lava volcano about to explode. I clung to Ali and sobbed into her shirt, unable to stop the tears that flowed down my cheeks. I didn't want to believe it could be true that my dad wasn't really my dad, but a part of me felt as if I should've known.

But I couldn't help wondering: Were some secrets better left buried?

Toby

When I walked up to the front door of my father's Colonial-style house,–which was right next door to the Hastings' massive, four-room classic Victorian with a separate barn loft and hot tub–I noticed both my dad and step-mother's cars sitting in the garage driveway. I cringed. What was my dad doing home? Daniel Cavanaugh worked long hours at the Prestige Auto Sales Inc., the car dealership he owned in Rosewood. He didn't usually get back until 8 P.M.

The plan was to slip into my parents' house to grab some of my old childhood things when I'd lived there, and then get out as fast as humanly possible. But that obviously wasn't going to happen, not with my dad and stepmother taking up precedence in the house.

I could smell my stepmom's perfume as I stepped inside with my empty duffel bag in hand, making me sneeze. Pricilla Marshall always wore a cloud of Chanel perfume no matter where she went.

"Toby?" my dad called. "Is that you?"

I slowly exhaled before entering the den, trying to gather my wits with my mouth tightened. I didn't want to see my dad, much less talk to him. Most of our conversations consisted of his disapproval of my relationship with Spencer and how he blamed me for tarnishing our family's reputation.

My father sat in the padded, brown leather recliner in the den's library next to Pricilla in the opposite chair. Besides being extremely successful and wealthy, my dad was one of the most well-known businessmen in town. He resembled me in many ways: tall, dull green eyes, strong jaw, same dark brown hair as mine, only there was some gray in it now. He even had the same dimple in his chin.

He wasn't such a bad dad in the sense that he didn't beat me, but he was never there for me when my mom died. He was barely around the week after her suicide/possible murder and he'd become a complete stranger to me, someone I didn't recognize. My father was never the same person after that; it had changed him. He wouldn't even talk to me or try to comfort me the way a real parent should, leaving me to fend for myself and to fall apart, crippled over the loss of my mother. He kept telling me to stop getting emotional over her death and to move on. But how could I when I had no one else? I'd only ever grown up under the care of my loving mother, sweet and gentle, the kind of mom kids dream about. And then she was gone.

And rather than treat me as a son, my father saw me more as a choreboy to do all his biddings for him. Somewhere in between Marion Cavanaugh's death and his new marriage, he'd stopped caring about me. My dad made a new life without me, marrying the perfect and gorgeous Pricilla, and inherited Jenna as his new step-daughter. Without a fatherly influence in my life and the absence of my late mother, I'd become a loner, too traumatized to love again. The town of Rosewood had labeled me as a bad boy, and people preferred filling my locker with whipped cream and cutting me down than associating themselves with me.

Pricilla fastened her emerald green eyes on me, as if finally noticing me. "Hello, Toby," she addressed me cooly. I didn't answer.

Pricilla remained still in her chair with her legs crossed, her posture perfect as always. She exuded elegance and class in a red silk blouse tucked underneath a black pencil skirt that fell just below her knees, and a pair of black high-heel slingbacks. There wasn't a wrinkle in place.

Mrs. Marshall was what most younger teenage boys would call a MILF. She looked exactly like her daughter, Jenna, with her long, raven-black tresses of hair that flowed down her back, bright green eyes set on a lovely heart-shaped face, attractive full lips, and a smooth, ivory complexion due to daily sessions at her dermatologist.

My dad had quickly gotten remarried to Pricilla a year after my mother died. Pricilla had a teenage daughter, Jenna, whom was only a year younger than I was. My dad was determined for Jenna and I to become friends for the sake of his marriage. A month after Jenna and her mom moved into the house, Jenna had snuck into my room and covered my mouth while she undressed me. I'd been so shocked, I couldn't move at first. But when I tried to stop her, she threatened to tell our parents that I'd initiated it if I didn't keep quiet. So I squeezed my eyes shut and bit through the pain as Jenna pushed me back against the bed and forced me inside her. She rode me harder and harder until I couldn't breathe. That was the first time I'd ever touched a girl, and the very last time I wanted to. Thinking about it made me want to throw up.

And then Spencer came along. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever met, and she was smart and funny and kinder than I'd originally thought. I'd fallen for her hard and fast. Spencer was like a security blanket–she made me feel safe and loved amongst my screwed up family.

"What are you doing here?" My dad stood up to pour himself a glass of tequila from the bar.

"I just came to grab my stuff," I responded, not meeting his eyes. "I won't be long."

"Where's your sister?" he demanded.

"I don't know," I answered. "Why don't you ask her seeing-eye dog?" When Jenna wasn't being escorted around by her personal aide, her big German Sheppard guide dog, Shadow, was with her.

"Don't take that tone with me," my dad said.

Just then, Pricilla's Blackberry rang. She snatched it with her claw-like manicured nails and moved over to the other side of the room. "Yes, hello, Sharon. I've been calling you all morning. Where the hell is my daughter?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My parents had no idea how tightly Jenna had them wound around her finger. It was sickening. After all those years of being in her control, Jenna still found a way to get to my parents.

Pricilla covered her hand over the phone and turned to my dad. "It's Sharon. I'll let you two talk while I handle this." She kissed my dad on the lips, then breezed past me without another backward glance.

As I turned to leave, my dad said, "Toby, wait."

I stopped reluctantly, turning to face him.

"I ran into Peter Hastings yesterday. He said Spencer is pregnant. Is that true?"

My dad and Peter Hastings, Spencer's father, didn't get along, and it wasn't only because of his high ambitious nature or his multi-million dollar lawfirm. My dad didn't approve of me dating Mr. Hastings daughter and he went out of his way to let him know what a manipulative and worthless piece of trash she was.

"I asked you a question," he pressed.

"Yes, it's true."

I saw one of the veins in his forehead pop and he clenched his jaw. I could already see what was coming next. "Do you have any idea what you've done? That girl is going to tear this family apart, just like that no-good father of hers. Spencer is–"

"Don't talk about her," I snapped. "Don't even say her name."

"Son, you need to stay away from her."

I glared at him. "I don't need any advice from you."

"That girl doesn't care about you," my dad scoffed.

"Spencer does," I insisted confidently. I knew how she felt about me, and my father was never to make me think otherwise.

"She'll never be good enough for you," he spat. "She's a criminal, Toby. Your feelings for her are absurd."

"You don't know anything about her or me," I shot back.

His eyes filled with fury. "I'm your father."

Anger flooded my body. "You haven't been a father to me in years. You wouldn't even talk about mom when she died!"

"I moved on!" he yelled.

"Yeah, well so did I," I yelled back angrily.

He looked at me incredulously. "You think that what you have with Spencer is real? She's just a phase. You have no right to be in love."

I stared at him evenly. "Well, get used to it because Spencer's pregnant. And as soon as she graduates, we're getting out of here to raise the baby together."

I tried to walk away, but my dad grabbed my arm in a firm grip. "You listen to me, you're a part of this family whether you like it or not and I will not let you destroy it." His face had gone red, and his voice shook with rage.

I yanked my arm back. "I'm leaving."

"Toby!" My dad moved over to the big, heavy mahogany-wooden office desk and pulled out his checkbook from his black leather briefcase. After scribbling something on it, he tore off a check and handed it to me. "Here."

"What is this?" I looked at the check in confusion. It was addressed to Spencer in her name in fine, black ink. When I saw the amount written in the top right corner, my stomach convulsed. There were too many zeros.

"It's just a little something for Spencer," he replied calmly. "Should be enough to support her and the baby."

Blood boiled in my veins, making my body feel hot. _This can't be happening_ , I thought to myself. The only person I cared about in this goddamned place was Spencer and now our baby, and I wasn't going to leave her just because my father deemed it so.

"You want me to leave Spencer." It wasn't a question.

"You're wasting your life with that girl. If you won't walk away, I will take every cent of the inheritance from your mother's lawsuit, your phone, that beloved truck of yours that you drive around everywhere, everything."

"I don't care what you do to me." I ripped up the check into tiny pieces, letting them fall at my father's feet. "You can't keep me away from Spencer."

Then I stormed out into the hall, heading toward the stairs. I passed Pricilla, who was barking into her phone. Jenna was probably concocting her next plan with her minions on the best way to terrorize Spencer and her friends.

I ascended the creaky old stairs to the attic, passing my old room on the way. Not much had changed since the last time I'd been here, aside from the bare, empty space after I made the decision to move out. Before my dad met Pricilla, I had been living comfortably in the large bedroom downstairs. I had my own computer, a big bay window overlooking the garden. But since Pricilla insisted her daughter needed the best room in the house, my father had willingly given up mine for Jenna. Now, instead of car and motorcycle models, snow globes now lined the windowsill, and porcelain dolls filled up every spare inch of the shelves. I, on the other hand, was forced to sleep in one of the smaller rooms upstairs–a small, cramped space with no windows or closet space.

I pulled on the string light overhead and stepped into the dark attic. There were piles of boxes around the room, stacked up together by old furniture that nobody used anymore; they were marked MARION and TOBY'S BABY THINGS. Next to it was my mom's old rocking chair that she used to soothe me to sleep as a baby. My mom had died two years ago, but my dad still kept some of her stuff.

Several piles of dusty old books sat in plastic storage bins. I picked up one of them and looked at the cover. _Puss in Boots_. I remembered my mother reading it to me when I was just four years old, especially the part when Boots gave the cat his confidence to do anything. There were some more books inside, mostly from my childhood. Peeking out of the bin was a piece of sheet music labeled _Heaven's Lullaby_. I gently grabbed it and held it in my hands, my lower lip trembling with emotion. It was the lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I was little. She'd loved playing the piano and making music.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve before answering, trying to compose myself. "Hello?"

"Hello, Toby," a female voice purred seductively on the other end.

I smiled. _Spencer_. "Hey, beautiful."

"Guess what I'm wearing?" she said suggestively.

My pelvis throbbed with excitement. "The see-through lace bra and tiny thong. You know how much I like those."

"Nope," she teased. "I'm naked underneath my robe." There was a pause. "I'm taking it off."

"Spencerrr," I moaned.

A hot sensation pooled below my navel, making my body hot all over. I could picture Spencer alone in our bedroom, her supple naked body on the bed in a sexy position. Vulnerable, touchable, waiting for me.

"Touch me," Spencer ordered. She moaned into the phone, and I knew she was feeling her full, hard breasts. I imagined touching them now and my member hardened.

"Harder," I told her.

I heard Spencer panting with excursion, followed by a few throaty groans. There was a muffling sound on the other end, like she was removing her panties. Her lacy, delicious panties.

"I thought you were naked?" I breathed.

"I am," she whispered. "This is just my thong. Do you like it?"

My hand gripped the end of some plywood, moaning again. "There's so many things I want to do to you right now."

"I need you inside me," she responded.

I swore under my breath. "I'm coming home."

Then Spencer whispered something so seductive, so tempting, that I could no longer wait anymore. I quickly collected the things I needed from my baby box and hurried outside to my truck. I practically threw myself into the driver's seat, racing down the road to the loft. It had only taken me fifteen minutes to pull up to the apartment, but it felt like hours.

Spencer waited for me in the foyer, naked from head to toe. I stared at the sight of her, frozen. I checked out Spencer's naked body; her legs were long and sexy, and her breasts had grown twice the size since I'd last seen them. Her waist had curved out into luscious curves. She smelled of vanilla, and her face was naturally radiant and glowing. And her hair cascaded over her shoulders in the sexiest way.

"I've been waiting for you," Spencer purred.

"I thought you had to do something with Hanna?" I asked.

"I already texted her," she said. "She can wait."

I dove for her, picking her up in my arms. I shoved the kitchen appliances off the countertop before setting Spencer down and she threw her legs around my waist, bending her knees at my hips as I thrusted against her.

I pushed into her harder, thrusting against her G spot. Spencer screamed in pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I quickened my pace, and she released a low, guttural moan. The sound turned my member hard as stone.

"More!" I cried.

Spencer tightened her long legs low around my waist, squeezing them firmly, and lifted herself up higher against me, her naked chest touching mine. She rubbed her nipples back and forth across my chest as I grinded against her. I groaned fiercely.

"You are the sexiest woman I have ever met," I moaned. I caught her earlobe in between my teeth and nibbled gently, licking along her ear.

Spencer moaned and grabbed my face, kissing me hard. She gently pushed her tongue into my mouth, swirling our tongues together in one wild dance. I couldn't breathe. I was consumed by her; I could see, hear, touch nothing else.

We were going at it like starving animals, lovemaking in every inch of the loft. Spencer was insatiable; I couldn't get enough of her. I covered my mouth over the side of her neck and started to suck.

Spencer moaned again and tugged at my hair. An animalistic groan escaped past my lips and I nibbled on her. I dove deeper into her neck, sucking on the hollow of her throat.

And then we were on the couch, jerking into each other in my quilted throw blanket. Spencer straddled me underneath the quilt that was dangerously sliding down her lower waist, exposing her full back, thrusting aggressively against me. She rolled her hips against mine swiftly, gasping and panting with excursion.

My hands grasped her hips as she moved on top of me. The pleasure she was giving me electrified, peaking at its highest climax. When we were done, I held Spencer in my arms on the couch as she laid peacefully against my bare chest.

She rubbed her hand across my chest. "That was really good."

I kissed her hair. "You're amazing."

"You've gotten really good at that," Spencer murmured. "You could go pro."

"The only woman I want to see naked is you."

Spencer smiled and kissed me on the lips softly. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much," I answered.

Spencer sat up, holding the blanket around her. "I have to show you something."

I grinned. "I think you just did."

She giggled. "No, goofball. On the roof."

I stroked her arm. "What's on the roof?"

"Put your clothes on and I'll show you."

I gathered my clothes that had gotten thrown around the loft and quickly dressed, meeting Spencer at the front door. She'd changed back into her blue silk dress and knee-high black boots, and had pulled on a beige trench coat that was wrapped around her waist.

She took my hand. "Come on."

I followed her down the hallway, taking the metal staircase to the top of the roof. The steps wound its way in a spiral upstairs. In the center, a door with an EXIT sign above loomed before us.

"This way," Spencer said. Her fingers slowly slipped through mine as she walked out into the sunlight.

I stepped onto the rooftop, noticing the evening blue sky and the stunning town below us. I looked at Spencer quizzically. "Spence, what did you want to show me?"

She bit her bottom lip, smiling giddily, and peeled off her trench coat, revealing a very prominent baby bump sticking out in between her hips.

I stared at her, stunned. "Spence, you're…"

Spencer grinned. "I'm showing."

I reached towards her and touched the bump, rubbing my hand across her pregnant belly. The idea that a human being that we'd created from our undying love was growing inside of her brought tears to my eyes. I drew Spencer in close with the enclosure of my arm and then brought my mouth down on hers, kissing her passionately. I never wanted to let her go.

My eyes were still closed when I pulled away, suddenly remembering the spa getaway tickets. After Spencer got out of the Dollhouse, I'd sent in seventeen magazine subscriptions to Publishers Clearing House in April for their Couples Spa Giveaway contest. The winner was supposed to get a couples spa getaway for the weekend. When I saw the ad online one morning, I knew I had to enter for Spencer. She'd been through so much, and now that she was pregnant, there was even more of a reason to go. I couldn't wait to be alone with her and share this romantic spa getaway together.

I smiled at Spencer mysteriously. "There's something I want to show you, too."

Spencer lifted her face to mine. "What is it?"

I reached into my back jeans pocket for the tickets and showed them to her.

Spencer gasped. "Toby…" She took the spa ticket in her hand and looked at it.

The ticket was lavender-colored and rectangular with a serial number and bar code at the right left corner for scanning. The name of the spa was typed clearly on the front.

"I wanted us to go together," I went on. "I won us a suite at The French Manor Inn and Spa this weekend."

When Spencer looked up, there were tears in her eyes. "How did you get these?"

"I subscribed to seventeen magazines so I could get the spa getaway for you," I said shyly. "I thought you could use it after everything you've been through. You deserve to relax and be pampered for a weekend. And I wanted to spend time with you out of Rosewood."

"Is this real?" she breathed. "This isn't some trick from A or my imagination?"

I rested my index finger under her chin, gazing into her eyes. "It's real."

Something intimate and unspoken passed between us, igniting the heat of the passion I felt for Spencer.

"We can have dinner at the little French restaurant and get couples massages," I added.

Spencer touched her hands to my face. "You had me at spa."

My heart lifted. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" she cried. She jumped into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist, and I immediately caught her.

Spencer pressed her mouth to mine and I kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, feeling the joy through the kiss.

She leaned her cheek into my chest and sighed breathlessly as I wrapped my arms around her, nestling her hair. Amidst the nearing golden sunset through the forming white clouds of endless blue sky that was mixed in with hues of gold, I couldn't ask for a more perfect and romantic setting.

Spencer

After promising Toby to take a nap with him later, I went downstairs to meet Hanna in The Brew and we drove to The Carissimi Group's office, a three-story building right across the street from the DiLaurentises real estate company. Hanna and I pushed through the double-glass doors of the entrance and strolled into the lobby. A dark-haired women dressed in a short-sleeved, floral-print blouse tucked underneath a black pencil skirt sat at the front desk. She had brown-colored skin that was lovely in contrast to her curly dark hair, which was pulled back into a neat bun. A nameplate sat on the desk with the words RECEPTIONIST printed in bold, black letters.

The woman looked up. "May I help you?"

I stepped up to the desk. "Hi, my name is Spencer Hastings, and this is my friend, Hanna," I said, gesturing towards Hanna. "We'd like to speak to someone about the scholarship she received from The Carissimi Group."

"The financial officer is in charge of the scholarships we provide," she responded.

"Well, can we see him?" Hanna demanded a little too sharply. I stomped on her foot with my boot.

"Ow!" Hanna glared at me. "What was that for?"

"Mr. Matthews is busy with a client right now," the woman replied, oblivious to our exchange. "But I can write down your number and have him give you a call."

"No, we need to see him now," Hanna insisted.

After the receptionist left a message for the financial officer on his answering machine, she led us into a small corner office at the end of the hall. "Mr. Matthews is on a call," she informed us. "It could be a while. Are you sure you don't want me to take your number–"

"We'll wait," Hanna said. "Thanks." She adjusted the strap of her purse higher onto her shoulder. "Uh, can I get a bubbly water, please?"

I shot her a look. "She's fine," I told the receptionist. "Don't…don't even worry about that." I waved her away.

When the receptionist left, I looked around. A round, glass table sat in the center of the office surrounded by modern swivel desk chairs. It was filled with lantern-style standing lamps, a huge masterpiece painting on the back wall, and a black leather couch and matching chair next to it. There was a cylinder vase filled with yarrow flowers underneath a big mirror decorated with crystals.

Hanna gave me an annoyed look. "Hey, that was really rude."

"I wanna find something that links this place to Charles," I explained. "I don't want her bursting back in here with bubbles."

"I wasn't actually thirsty, Spencer," she told me. "I was trying to make us look normal."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. Normal wasn't in our vocabulary. Before Alison went missing and A existed, my perfect, good-girl life had been relatively normal, but it was amazing how fleeting perfection could be. Things had changed so irrevocably that I didn't think either of us could go back. There were times when I wished I could have my old life back, the life where I had perfect grades, hung out with Ali and our best friends, had secret rendezvous make out sessions with cute boys, and I wasn't a walking pariah of Rosewood. Then I met Toby, and he unexpectedly showed me a whole new world than I could have ever imagined. He made me question everything about me and my life. I never had that freedom before him. Toby made me feel alive.

As Hanna wandered over to the mirror, I searched through the room, trying to find something that indicated Charles was involved with The Carissimi Group. I spotted a Magic 8 Ball on the glass meeting table and picked it up, shaking it. A tiny blue triangle appeared in the window: ASK AGAIN LATER. _Typical_.

Hanna spun around. "Would you stop touching things?" she said, irritated.

I looked at her as if to say, _What did I do?_ "What?"

She gestured to the mirror and widened her eyes, as if Charles was watching us through it right now.

"Hanna, that's not a…" Before I could finish, Hanna marched over to the desk at the front of the room and snatched a notepad and pen, and started to jot something down.

I folded my arms across my chest and sighed.

She ripped off the page she'd written on and showed it to me: _Two-way glass? Cameras in hall? Listening?_

"Okay, I think you're being a little bit paranoid," I said.

Hanna crumpled up the piece of paper, ignoring me. She made a crinkling noise with the paper in her hand repeatedly, as if she was trying to prevent us from being heard.

I felt a ripple of irritation. "Hanna, what are you doing? What are you–"

"Shh!" Hanna hissed, pressing a finger to her lips. She looked around the room nervously with wide eyes, looking for invisible cameras that weren't there.

"Stop! Nobody is listening to us, okay?" I grabbed the notepad off the desk and tore off another page. "They can't hear us. Even if they could…"

Hanna flung the crumpled ball at me, aiming for my face. It flew over my shoulder instead and rolled across the floor.

"Would you stop it?" I yelled. "You're ridiculous."

"And you have terrible aim," I heard a deep, male voice say from behind me.

I spun around. Standing before me was a man dressed in a sleek navy-blue suit with a familiar, diamond-shaped face, wavy dark-blonde hair, and deep blue eyes–the same exact color as Jason's. His hair was combed back off his face, showing off his prominent cheekbones. He looked startlingly like Jason.

The guy pointed to a trash bin underneath his desk. "There's a recycling bin next to the credenza."

I stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. "Hi, you must be Rhys Matthews."

Rhys stepped towards me. "You wouldn't mind letting me borrow that, would you?" he asked, gesturing to the notepad in my hands. "I might wanna take some notes."

"Yeah," I replied uneasily. I handed him the notepad.

"Thanks." He set it down on the desk and turned his blue eyes to Hanna and I. "Now how can I help you?"

"We have some questions for you," Hanna said.

"I would be happy to answer them," Rhys said pleasantly. He gestured to the two black leather-wooden chairs in front of his desk. "Please, take a seat."

I took a seat in one of the chairs, and Hanna slid into the one next to me. Every part of my body ached, from my stomach to my toes, which had now grown red and swollen. Another downside to my pregnancy. The only shoes that I could wear now were ballet flats and boots.

"Your charity group gives out scholarships," Hanna started, "but why would you send a check to me instead of the college?"

"You were randomly chosen," he answered. "We get hundreds of applicants for scholarships."

"I never applied for yours." She pulled out a small envelope containing the thousand-dollar check and handed it to him across the desk. "I got this from your charity, I just don't know what to do with it. My mom cashed it in this morning."

Rhys looked over the check. "So you received a thirty-thousand dollar scholarship check, deposited it into your college fund, and then changed your mind?"

"Hanna just feels like–" I tried, but Rhys cut me off.

He looked at Hanna. "Hanna? Why aren't you telling me how you feel?" He folded his hands on top of the desk and looked directly into her eyes.

"My mom applied for these scholarships," she told him. "She didn't know that I had a few other options."

"Multiple scholarship offers?" he said incredulously. "That certainly is impressive. And you're confident these other options will fully find your college tuition?"

"Totally," Hanna answered. "Um, are you able to give it to someone else?"

Rhys gathered the check and envelope together. "We aren't in the business of taking back gifts. It kinda undermines the concept of charity, don't you think?"

"We could help you find another candidate," I offered. "I'm sure we know someone. What is the criteria again?"

"We'll most likely return the amount to our scholarship fund until the next round of applications come in," Rhys explained.

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. As I looked at Rhys more closely, I felt the eerie familiar sense of déjà vu. It was the same feeling I'd felt in the bunker, when I'd come face-to-face with Charles. He had the same blonde hair, perfect chin, and the same gorgeous blue eyes as Jason. It couldn't be… Was Rhys a DiLaurentis? And if he was, was he Charles? It explained a lot of things. For instance, where all the money had come from to build the Dollhouse in the first place, and how Charles was able to fund all the money for The Carissimi Group and send Hanna a million-dollar check. A swooping, sick feeling washed over me, and it wasn't just because of my morning sickness.

"So you give away multiple scholarships?" I asked him skeptically. "How many would you say? Per year?"

"Are you in need?" he asked me.

"No." I looked at him straightly. "I'm not. I just, uh…I have a friend who might wanna apply and–and you don't have much information on your website. It's difficult to find your organization on those scholarship websites."

"We prefer to offer scholarships selectively," Rhys said. "Most of our candidates are recommended through personal connections."

I frowned. "So who makes the final decision?"

"Our recipients are ultimately chosen by my employer."

"Would that be Mr. Carissimi?" Hanna questioned suspiciously.

Rhys smirked, but didn't say anything.

"Maybe we could speak with him?" I asked.

The corners of Rhys' lips turned up into a secretive smile. "That's unlikely. This private trust exists to provide him with discretion."

My suspicions of Rhys grew. What was he hiding? And what was so important that we couldn't meet with the owner of the company?

"Well, I would just like to thank him." Hanna picked up her purse off the floor, digging through its contents until she found her phone. "Maybe I could send him an email or something."

Rhys sighed, his fingers clasped together. As Hanna pulled out her pink iPhone, she discreetly snapped a picture of Rhys.

I glanced at Hanna nervously. "Um, Hanna?"

She lifted her eyes to mine. "Oh, um, I'm just putting his email on my phone. I don't wanna forget it."

I nodded, catching on to what she was doing. "Oh yeah. Good idea." I turned back to Rhys. "Your boss does have an email address, right?"

Rhys chuckled uncomfortably. "I'll tell you what? My employer and I have a weekly conference call. I will alert him to your change of heart the next time we speak." He looked at both of us apologetically. "I'm sorry. It's the best I can do."

Then, he reached for the office phone sitting on the left side of the desk and pressed a button. "Daphne, I'll need to see the current holdings report."

Hanna and I rose from our chairs, and Rhys opened the door for us. "It was a pleasure meeting you both," he said politely.

Once we were out in the lit-up hallway, Hanna whispered, "That guy was definitely hiding something."

I pointed to a security keypad on the wall by a sealed steel door. The Carissimi Group logo was on top of the touch screen for a secret code to the restricted area. "Yeah, you think?"

"Okay, you couldn't pick that even if you tried," Hanna said. "Besides, what he's hiding isn't in there. It's in his freaking DNA. You were thinking it the whole time. Same as I was. That guy looks exactly like–"

"Exactly like a DiLaurentis," I finished for her.

Jess

On my way to the art opening, I passed the Sadsbury woods that separated Rosewood from Philadelphia. Ali and I used to sneak away to climb up the rope ladder into her tree house there from sixth to seventh grade, playing truth or dare, talking about boys, and watching the constellations through the tree house's skylight. I hadn't been in that part of the woods in years–not since Alison went missing.

Not a day went by when I didn't think about the last time Ali and I were in the tree house. It was two days after I'd carved my initials and Jason's into the oak tree. Ali's tree house smelled like sap, mint, and cigarette smoke–I used to bring up my pack of Parliaments up there to smoke, another one of my old habits. Ali pulled her handheld camera out of her blue leather tote bag and handed it to me. "You have to see this," she said.

"What is it?" I asked.

A secretive smile played on Ali's lips. "Peter Hastings isn't the only one with dark secrets."

Ali flipped open the camera and pressed the play button. A video started playing on the small screen with a clear shot of my bedroom. There was a fumbling sound coming from the speakers, and then a moment later, a thirteen-year-old me entered the room, wearing a black-and-grey hoodie over a white tank top and charcoal jeans. My brown hair was pulled back off my face into a ponytail, and a gold heart-shaped locket hung from my neck.

I sat down on the bed and pulled out my notebook and books from my messenger bag, and got started on my homework.

"Jess?" a man's voice called from somewhere off-screen. "Are you home?"

I saw myself flinch in the video. I knew that voice; it was my father. Or so I'd thought at the time.

"I'm in my room," I heard myself answer in a shaky voice.

My dad appeared in the doorway a second later, noted the books and papers spread around my bed, and looked at me for a long time. "Big test tomorrow?" he finally asked.

I opened my history book to another page, trying to appear normal. "Hmm-mm. There's an exam on the Spanish war."

My dad stared at me. "You come straight home after school, do you hear me? I don't want you staying out late again."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

I remembered how I could him watching me, his presence alarming. "What did you do at school?"

"I went to study hall with Sasha," I told him. "Just the usual."

His face hardened. "I thought I told you to stay away from that girl?"

The younger me tensed in the video. My dad wouldn't let me get rides home with my friends or leave the house alone, and I didn't have a car to drive because he wanted to keep me his prisoner forever. He didn't like the idea of me belonging to anyone else but him. Payton had to drive me to the DMV one weekend so I could get my license and signed the papers while I took my driver's test. If dad knew, he would kill Payton and then punch me until I could no longer breathe.

"Dad, I–" Before I could react, he slapped me across the face. The thirteen-year-old me held her cheek where he'd hit me, recalling the hot and sharp burning sting that had seared my skin.

"You disobeyed me!" my dad shouted. He grabbed my arm and yanked me off the bed, nearly pulling it out of its socket. His mouth was drawn in a furious line and his eyes were bloodshot, dark as coals. I could still smell the biter bourbon on his breath.

I tried wriggling away, but my dad only tightened his grip on me. "You're so god damn ungrateful! I gave you everything! I put a roof over your head, I give you food and clothes, a place to sleep!"

I tried to escape from his grasp again, but he twisted my arm around and took a handful of my shirt in his fist, jerking me up. His eyes flashed with fury, the muscle in his jaw pulsing.

I breathed in sharply, remembering the feeling of his hot breath on my ear. "I'll make you start respecting me."

My dad's mouth twisted into a cruel grimace, and all of his anger and suspicion cut into me. I had wanted to shield myself away from his hands of fire, weapons that have both scarred and bruised me. He yanked at my hair, dragging me downstairs to the kitchen as I cried out.

The clip cut abruptly and then opened to another one, this time panning to the kitchen. I remembered that day well–it had happened shortly after my dad told me I couldn't see Sasha anymore. She'd grown suspicious of my father's strange behavior in the house: of his control over me, the fact that he wouldn't let me leave the house, his unpredictable temper. He didn't want anyone to know the truth.

I watched myself in the video fling her arms at my dad to make his hands release her, but he was ready for her. He struck fast and hard, firing at my back. I heard myself gasp, hot tears leaking from my eyes in pain. He walked toward the kitchen sink with me hanging off him, screaming. Then he threw me into the sink and turned the tap up with hot water over my head, burning my scalp. I could still feel the deep bruises on my back, feeling as though someone had gutted me with a knife. The pain had shot up my spine and the room wobbled in front of my eyes like one of those fun-house mirrors at the carnival.

I snapped the camera closed and looked at Ali with angry, betrayed eyes. "How could you do this to me?"

"We have proof, Jess," Ali said in a strong, urgent voice. "We'll take this to the police and show them what an abusive son of a bitch your dad really is. You can finally be free of him."

The plan was, she explained was to blackmail my father into letting me leave with Ali to live in Rosewood with the video of him hitting me. And if he didn't comply, Ali was going to turn the video over to the police. But since my dad was a well-respected detective in Ohio, he had the power to overturn the evidence against him. The night Ali and I left Fairfield, he caught us at the train station and threatened to destroy Ali if she ever tried to take me from him again.

After Ali went missing, I was convinced that her disappearance was my fault for blackmailing my dad for my freedom. For getting her involved with Jonny. For helping Jonny steal that painting. Ali seemed to know everyone's secrets and used it against them, and that's exactly what she did to my father. A knew everything about all of us. But why would A care about what my dad was hiding? For a while, I thought he had been responsible for Ali's disappearance, that he'd somehow killed her for revenge.

As I rolled the window down, I heard a rustling sound. I looked to the right and noticed the trail that led deep into the Sadsbury woods. It was too dark to see anything out here.

I parked my Honda Civic on the side of the road and got out, squinting into the trees. I heard some more rustling somewhere off in the woods. I took a step back, my heart pounding. "Hello?" I called. "Is anybody there?"

When there was no answer, I marched fiercely through the tall grass ferns through the forest and cut across the dirt path. As I pushed through the brambly tree branches, I stopped short.

There, about a mile away from the creek, was the familiar knotty oak tree. It was one of the tallest trees in the forest, partially obscured by elms and pines. The tree house was still there, as was the heart and initials I had carved into the bark on the trunk: _Jess + Jason_. My cheeks flushed. When I was twelve, I had already been crushing hard on Jason. I would sneak over to the high school soccer field during my summers with Ali to watch him at soccer practice before school started in the fall. One year Sasha came with me to Rosewood and we hid behind a tree that overlooked the soccer fields to spy on him as he did push-ups near the goalie pen, giggling as I told her about my unrequited crush on him. Sometimes I would find myself leafing through Ali's old yearbook to find pictures of Jason. I was relieved Ali hadn't known about my feelings for him yet, since brothers were off-limits with best friends.

After everyone left the lake for lunch, I slipped my copy of _The Outsiders_ into my satchel bag–his favorite book–hoping to run into Jason and show it to him. Maybe when Jason found out I liked _The Outsiders_ too, he'd realize we were soulmates. My heart raced as I waited for his shift to end at the grille. When I saw him leave the kitchen's revolving doors, I reached into my bag and pulled out the book.

But the hostess at the restaurant cut in front of me just before I could reach Jason to inform him that he had an important call waiting for him in the office. "A girl," the hostess explained. Jason's face lit up with interest. He brushed past me without even looking at me. I quickly stuffed the book back into my bag, my heart dropping in disappointment. The girl on the phone was probably Jason's age and flawlessly beautiful, not some gawky sixth-grade freak. A day after that, I found out the girl had been Madison, Jason's on-and-off again summer girlfriend. I wanted him so much it hurt, and sought out every opportunity to see him. Then, six years later, Jason told me that he loved me. I kneeled down in front of the tree trunk, tracing my fingers over our names.

By the time I fought through the snarl of rush hour traffic thirty minutes later, I parked at the Philadelphia's Rowitz Art Gallery. The art opening was being held in a small building on the corner of the street. I handed my keys over to the valet and made my way past the formally dressed guests and photographers.

A bouncer dressed in a black suit stopped me at the Rowitz's grand, double-door entrance. "You need an invitation to get in," he said sternly. I handed him the invitation the Cardillo Arts Fellowship had sent me, and the guy nodded. "Go on in."

I pulled my pale-pink peacoat tight around me and strode into the gallery. The inside of the building smelled like cinnamon, and jazz music floated into the room. A bunch of kids from Rosewood High, including Noel Kahn, Mona Vanderwaal, Bridget Wu, and Naomi Zeigler had come, lingering by some of the photographs and paintings. There were security guards at every entrance and more than a few dozen Rosewood cops dressed in sleek black suits, whispering into hidden mouthpieces in their cuff links.

I looked around the room. There were at least a hundred paintings and photographs on the walls, with small white plaques underneath each one bearing the title and the artist's name. Thin women with shimmering blonde hair dressed in elegant dresses loitered in clusters around one of the oil paintings. A guy with slicked back grey hair talked to a woman in a skimpy red dress, sipping a glass of red wine.

My heart pounded. These weren't the usual, local art critiques who came to Rosewood art openings. I was pretty sure this was the real art world from New York–the kind of New Yorkers who paid thousands of dollars for masterpiece paintings and carried expensive Chanel purses.

The exhibit showed fifty different artists, but the majority of the onlookers were crowded around some realism acrylic paintings. I walked up to one of the pieces titled, _True Love_. The painting was a portrait of a pretty, dark-haired girl being embraced by a tall guy with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders, drawn in soft lines and deft shading. The guy in the portrait was holding her as if he didn't want to ever let go. They were wearing the same clothes as Spencer and Toby, and that wasn't the only resemblance. The artist had even captured Spencer's demure face and Toby's large hands.

My jaw dropped. The painting was mine. I'd drawn it the night after Spencer told Toby to follow Jason to the warehouse where he was trying to meet Charles, and kissed him goodbye. My heart fluttered excitedly, taken away by all the attention. My art was being shown here in a real art gallery and it mattered to someone, and that felt really good.

"So what do you think?" a familiar voice said next to me in his lazy, richboy voice.

I smiled before turning to Noel Kahn, who had sidled up beside me, looking devilishly handsome in a black button-down and red tie. With his wavy black hair and piercing blue eyes, Noel was a lot like most of the Typical Rosewood boys: good-looking, rich, popular. But he had a dark side. For the last three years, Noel had been protecting Ali from A while she was on the run, giving her money and hooking her up with airplane tickets for transportation. He even dated Mona Vanderwaal and Jenna Marshall briefly as a way to get close to them and make them spill all their secrets.

I had seen Noel a lot during my visits to Rosewood, and we'd bonded over our several outings with Ali, which mostly consisted of Noel's famous parties at his family's cabin while his parents were away, skinny dipping at the Kissing Rock, and tequila contests between Ali and Noel to see who could finish off the most shots. We'd been close friends ever since. Noel had grown quite a bit since the last time I saw him. He'd grown out of the soft muscles of his eighth-grade youth and had hardened into a solid, athletic build. His face was still sweet and charming just like I remembered it, but the planes of his prominent cheekbones had sharpened, his jaw strong.

"Noel!" I cried enthusiastically and threw my arms around him, pleased to see him.

Noel pulled out of the hug and moved his eyes over my face, trying to discreetly check out my exposed, long legs. Rather than be repulsed by it, I brushed it off. Noel was only a flirt, and getting noticed by him felt like winning the lottery to most girls.

His lips stretched across his face in a wide grin. "Hey, I heard you were entering in this art show. I haven't seen you since…" He trailed off, his lips drawn into a somber line.

 _Since you tried to blackmail Ali._ Neither of us were saying it, but we were both thinking it. An ashamed, guilty look passed over Noel's face. After Ali had come back to Rosewood, she'd formed an army to protect herself against Mona, and in turn, Noel grew suspicious of her and took secret photos of her illicit activities for leverage.

"I'm just glad Ali's okay," I said.

"Me, too." Noel paused. "I've known those girls my whole life–trouble always follows them."

I rested my hands on my hips defiantly. "The same could be said about you."

"Ouch!" Noel put a hand over his heart, like I'd wounded him. "Maybe I've been known for being a bad guy, but I would never drag you into any of it. That's what I've always liked about you, Jess. You don't take any crap from anyone."

I felt a piece of my armor crack off. "I don't think you're a bad guy, Noel."

His blue eyes turned soft and apologetic. "Listen, I'm sorry for being a jerk. I didn't mean to insult you or your friends. I know how important Ali is to you."

I smiled. "It's okay. You know, you're important to her, too."

He looked into my eyes. "Just be careful, okay?"

I nodded, then gestured toward the wall of paintings, desperate to change the subject. "I didn't think it would be such a big deal. It's just me."

"Jess, you're one of the most talented artists I know. This isn't art." Noel gestured to a black and white framed conceptual photograph of a dark-haired porcelain doll with a cracked face, sitting in a wire mesh cage, and her small hands were tied together with string as if she was being held prisoner. It reminded me of the Dollhouse. "They look like possessed Chucky dolls come to life."

My eyes widened, surprised that he had noticed. "It does look kind of creepy, doesn't it?" I giggled. "But I think we're supposed to take it more seriously. These are conceptual photos. The artist probably took them to represent solitude or the struggle of domestic abuse. The angles make these photos look so emotional."

Noel took a sip of his champagne. "Or maybe they got drunk and wanted to make a recreation of _American_ _Horror Story_."

I laughed, but truthfully it was nice to talk to someone about art and not have to hear about Charles. It was also nice to be in Philadelphia and not Rosewood, miles away from A.

Just then, a cute guy with stylishly messy brown hair and bright green eyes came up behind Noel. "Dude, you have to come see this. Someone drew a painting of some chick's nipple."

I rolled my eyes. Of course only guys in Rosewood would be interested in seeing a girl naked at an art gallery.

The green-eyed boy's eyes swept over me, making my cheeks grow hot. "Hey, I know you. You're that girl from Ohio, right? Ali D's friend?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes at him warily as I took him in. He was a little bit taller than Noel and had the body of an athlete, another jock from school probably. A J. Crew black cashmere-wool sweater that fit his body snuggly suggested money.

"Leave her alone," Noel said protectively. "Jess is my friend." He flashed me a set of his perfect, pearly white teeth and winked.

"You just say that to all the girls," I teased.

The guy's eyes widened. "Shit. There's Aria and that teacher, Mr. Fitz."

I turned and tried to look in the direction he was, but the room was so packed with people that I couldn't find Aria anywhere among the crowd.

Noel touched my arm and held my eyes for a second. "I'll see you around, okay?"

I smiled. "Yeah."

The boy nudged Noel and they walked off, wandering over to the end of the hall to another part of the paintings section.

A waitress carrying a tray of champagne flutes swept past. I eagerly grabbed a glass and moved on to the next painting. After downing the champagne, I moved around the clusters of people, looking for Spencer, Aria and Emily.

When I felt a tap on my arm, I stiffened, thinking it was a cop. But it was only Emily. She wore a black sleeveless cocktail dress and her long dark hair hung loosely at her shoulders. "I've been looking all over for you," Emily exclaimed.

I looked at her in surprise. "You have?"

She nodded. "Where have you been?"

"Traffic was horrible," I said. "Where are Aria and Spencer?"

Emily frowned. "You mean they're not here?"

"I thought they were with you?"

Then Emily turned and looked toward the entrance, and I saw Spencer and Hanna talking anxiously by a table of hors d'oeuvres appetizers. Spencer looked pretty in a long-sleeved yellow, green, and white paisley-printed midi dress. Spencer's stomach bulged out through her dress, showing her big pregnant belly. Hanna, on the other hand, wore a black leather biker jacket over a short, white high-neck romper that barely covered her thighs, with a D-ring belt clinched around her waist.

Emily stormed up to them, her cheeks flushed. "What took you guys so long to get here?"

"Uh, there was just a really long line in the valet and…" Spencer stopped short off of Hanna's meaningful look. "We were following a hunch about Charles."

Emily glanced between Hanna and Spencer. "And did you find anything?"

Hanna pulled out her iPhone and opened up something on the screen, and showed it to Emily. "Don't tell Aria."

Emily and I both leaned over the phone's window. There was a picture of a guy who looked nearly identical to Jason, sitting at a desk with his hands clasped together. He had dark blonde hair and a familiar strong chin. His eyes were a magnificent shade of blue, and his lips were pink and bow-shaped just like Jason's.

"Why would Aria care if you had a photo of Jason on your phone?" Emily asked. "Wait, why do you have a photo of Jason on your phone?"

"That's not Jason," Spencer told her.

Emily glanced down at the photo more closely, frowning.

"He says his name is Rhys," Hanna explained.

Emily's eyes flickered up to Hanna's, finally understanding. It couldn't have been a coincidence that there was a guy who looked exactly like Jason, who happened to be working at the same charity that Jessica DiLaurentis donated money to. The same charity that probably funded the money for Charles to build a bunker for trapping all six of us in the middle of the woods. This guy, Rhys, had to be Charles.

I looked around at the crowd of art critics and kids from Rosewood High, searching for Aria. I finally spotted her on the other side of the entrance talking to Ezra near a sign that said CARDILLO ARTS FELLOWSHIP. A pretty brunette about Ezra's age stood next to him, the corners of her pink lips spread up into a beautiful smile. Ezra was gesturing towards her to Aria, as if introducing her.

"There's Aria," I said. "We should go tell her before she hears about it from A."

"Here?" Spencer said incredulously. "Tonight is a big deal for Aria."

Guilt washed over me. "I don't like it either, but I hate the thought of A bombarding Aria tonight with some elaborate scheme."

Spencer hesitated, but then she nodded. "Okay, c'mon." She took my hand, and all four of us weaved through the crowd.

Before we could reach Aria, Ezra, and the mystery girl, Spencer stopped abruptly in front of the _True Love_ painting and my cheeks reddened. "Is that supposed to be me and Toby?" she asked me.

"Um," I stammered. "Yeah, I…" I glanced at Hanna and Emily, but they had drifted off to a far corner, staring at the photo of Rhys on Hanna's phone and talking in hushed tones.

"It's beautiful," Spencer breathed.

I rubbed my arm nervously. "Thanks. It's one of the pieces I submitted to the art show. I drew it after Toby and Lorenzo followed Jason to the warehouse."

Spencer reached out, as if to touch the painting, then withdrew her hand. She turned her warm brown eyes to mine, which had filled with emotion. "Why?"

I shrugged. "When I look at you and Toby, I see how much love there is between you two. And, I don't know, it makes me believe in true love again, which is something I never thought I'd say. And that's what I wanted to show in my art, that true love really does exist as long as you believe in it."

Spencer smiled at me, looking touched. As I scrambled for something else to say, the mystery girl noticed me standing close by and broke into a glimmering smile. "Jess!" she called brightly.

I squinted at her, trying to place her. The girl had long, dark wavy hair, striking blue eyes, and a willowy body frame. It was Nicole Gordon, a girl Josh and I went to junior high with at Creekside Middle School before she moved away, due to the increased crime rate in Ohio. Not a day had gone by without a story on the morning news about some murder, theft, drug offenders, and rape. My dad had been one of the several detectives assigned to those investigations, and he was good at his job. By the end of 8th grade, Nicole's parents decided it was no longer safe in Fairfield and moved to Brookhaven, Pennsylvania. Little did they know that a fifteen-year-old girl had disappeared in a small town over.

Before all that, though, Nicole was one of the older kids at Creekside along with Payton. Nicole had been the student council in school and was involved in every charity and volunteer work around. She was the kindest and most selfless person I'd ever met, and smarter than she let people believe. Every day at lunch, she and the rest of the charity group would set up a table right by the cafeteria entrance and laid out brochures and money jars to rally support for whichever causes they were supporting, from breast cancer to the local children's hospital for infectious diseases.

My eyes widened in recognition, noting that Nicole was prettier than I remembered. Beautiful, even. "Nicole? Is that you?"

Nicole pulled me into an instant hug, wrapping her arms around me tightly. After a moment, she stepped back and looked me over. "It's so good to see you again!" she said in her Scottish accent. "You look incredible."

"Thanks," I said. "So do you. I didn't know you were back in town."

"Yeah, I'm looking for some more volunteers to build homes in South America. Emily helped me in Tahiti for Habitat for Humanity last summer."

Ezra's eyes darted between Nicole and I. "You two know each other?"

"Yes, of course," Nicole replied. "Jess and I went to school together in Ohio."

"Oh, I didn't know you and Jess both lived in Ohio," Ezra noted.

"We were mates." Nicole turned back to Aria. "I was just telling Aria that I'm really looking forward to seeing her work. Ezra has told me so much about her photography."

Aria pasted a smile on her face. "Thanks for coming."

Nicole smiled back, oblivious to Aria's unfriendliness. Spencer glanced between Nicole and I, looking confused.

"Jess actually submitted her artwork to the Cardillo Arts Fellowship program and they're showing it tonight." Spencer smiled. "She has some really amazing pieces."

Nicole's eyes brightened. "I'd love to see them."

"I'm sure there are others much more impressive than mine," I said modestly.

"Don't be ridiculous. I remember your art from junior high." She turned to Ezra. "Jess used to draw murals on the boardwalk at the school with chalk. She's very talented."

I looked away shyly, blushing furiously.

Nicole smiled up at Ezra, biting her bottom lip giddily. Aria glanced at Ezra and Nicole with a pained expression, seeming to notice how closely they were standing together and the dopey, lovesick way Ezra was staring at Nicole. It was obvious Ezra and Nicole had fallen for each other at first sight. A flicker of disappointment passed over Aria's face.

Sympathy tugged at my chest. I could only imagine how hard it must have been for Aria to watch her ex move on with someone else, especially someone she used to be in love with. But judging by the way Aria's mouth was drawn down and the twitch in her jaw, I suspected she still wasn't over Ezra.

"Clark," Aria said abruptly, turning to a tall, dark-skinned guy from across the room. "I should go say hey." With that, she walked over to the boy, Clark, making a quick escape. He turned at the sound of his name, seeming surprised to see Aria here.

Seconds later, a woman with a shaven head spoke into the microphone at a glass podium. "On behalf of the Cardillo Arts Fellowship, I would like to welcome you all to our gallery tonight."

As everyone gathered around the stage to listen to the judge's speech, I scanned the sea of people for Josh, hoping he had decided to show up at the last minute, but he wasn't among them. Then I noticed a familiar golden-haired guy in the back of the room, standing off to the side. My breath caught in my throat. _Jason_.

Jason wore a light blue button-down shirt underneath an expensive black suit. His golden-blonde hair was combed back neatly, but still tousled to perfection. When he caught and held my eyes, my legs turned to jelly. He smiled broadly at me, his eyes seeming to come alive when mine connected with his. I smiled back.

 _Good luck_ , Jason mouthed to me.

My heart thumped inside my chest. Movement caught my eye from one of the back doors. A police officer stood there, guarding the door. The guy was tall with wavy, dark hair. A Rosewood Police Department badge gleamed on his jacket, and a pair of handcuffs dangled from his belt. It was Holbrook.

I couldn't tell if he was here under orders by Tanner to secure the building from Charles or because he knew that I was his daughter. I swallowed. Although I wasn't quite sure what Holbrook being here meant, with everything that I'd learned today, I couldn't bare any more surprises.

I quickly looked away, unsure of how I should feel about all of it.

"We are here to celebrate a fresh crop of promising new photographers and painters," the judge went on, "two of whom will leave here tonight with a five-thousand-dollar cash prize and a summer internship to a premier travel and leisure art gallery based in New York."

All of the guests applauded, including the girls who shot Aria and I supportive glances, beaming at us proudly. A million butterflies fluttered against my stomach. This was it.

"I would like to thank all of the young artists who applied this year," she said. "You gave the judges a real challenge."

Aria stepped forward expectantly. Still, the judge continued, unconcerned with Aria's bluntness. "And thank you to the Rowitz Fine Arts Gallery for so generously hosting this event. Now, I'd like to invite you all in to meet our finalists."

The woman stepped down from the podium to pull back the red velvet ropes and the lights flickered over the sectioned off wall dividers of the gallery, illuminating each of the contestants' photos. The crowd erupted into shocked gasps. I looked towards the photos and nearly doubled over. What were supposed to be oil paintings displayed on my wall were five photographs of teenage girls in its place. And they looked familiar.

The photos were all lined up horizontally underneath my name on the wall in silver frames, and the plaque underneath read: _STOLEN DOLLS (NO SON LINDAS)._ Each one showed Aria, Hanna, Emily, and Spencer lying unconscious in a morgue on separate gurneys, with thin white sheets draped over them. Every one except for me.

The fifth photo stood out from all the rest. On the bottom was a long rectangular photograph of a dark-haired girl crouched in the corner of what looked like a small, dark basement. Her thick hair was matted to her forehead with blood, and she was bruised with big, red splotches of burn scars seared onto her arms, legs, and back. Thick chains were tightened around the girl's wrists that were attached to an iron, chain link fence, and the only thing covering her was a white scoop-neck tank top and some black undies. She stared back at me with wide, scared eyes.

My skin iced over. The girl in the picture was me. _In_ _Charles' Dollhouse_.

I suddenly realized why my photo and the others looked so different. The girls were perfectly lined up side-by-side, like dolls, and they looked pale and clean. Meanwhile, I looked dirty and bloody, chained up like a slave. Charles was calling me a dirty whore in front of everyone.

My body started to shake and I couldn't control my balance. It felt like I was standing on ice. Suddenly, a horrible vision flashed in front of my eyes. I was downstairs in a cold, dark basement inside the Dollhouse. I couldn't tell if it was night or day. Charles stood in front of me dressed in a black hoodie and black pants, staring at me from behind a dark ski mask. My hands were chained up to a chain link fence, harsh and bulky against my skin. Pink marks had dug into my wrists from the chains. I could smell the burning electrical heat from the iron fence, felt the ice-cold water drenching my tank top and panties, heard the water dripping from the pipes, and saw the singular bright florescent light flickering above me. All I could taste was blood in my mouth. I knew this was from when Charles had kept me prisoner in his Dollhouse. The last four months of when I'd been captured and tortured came rushing back to me.

"I want to play a game," Charles was saying through an enhanced voice modulator. "There's only one key to unlock the chains shackled to your hands. If you tell me how Alison rigged the polygraph test, I will free you. Refuse, and you will lose your only way out of here."

"What do you want?" I cried helplessly. The water was cold against my skin that Charles had thrown on me when I refused to answer a question about Alison. I shivered.

"For the last three years, you've stood by and watched as your friend, Alison DiLaurentis lied, manipulated, and schemed on the lives of those she deemed as unworthy to her," Charles taunted. "If not for your blind loyalty to Alison, you could have prevented all their pain and suffering. Now is your turn to bring her to justice for all of her mistakes."

"I will never help you!" I shouted bravely.

"Once Alison realizes she no longer needs you anymore, she'll toss you aside like trash," Charles snarled. "It'll only be a matter of time before she betrays you, too."

I glared at him, knowing precisely what he was talking about. Ali had made up a fake story to the police about being kidnapped during the two years that she was missing; it was the only way to keep Aria out of jail after she'd shot Shana Fring for trying to kill Ali. But when Alison returned to Rosewood, things only got worse. Cyrus, a guy whom Ali had met while she was in hiding from A, mugged her. In exchange for her silence for what he really did to her, Cyrus agreed to take the fall for 'kidnapping' Alison, only to escape from police custody later that night with Ali's help. Then A planted seeds of doubt in the girls minds in the form of text messages, making them question their trust in her, and eventually, they all turned their backs on her. And the more desperate Ali became, the deeper she sunk into A's trap.

"Well, you made sure of that, didn't you?" I fired back. "What was the plan, Charles? Outcast Ali and then kill her? You say you want to punish Ali for all the bad things she's done, but this…this is evil!" I shook my head at him with a mixture of terror and disbelief.

"Evil isn't born, it's made." He knelt down in front of me and leaned forward. "Alison will never be good again. The only thing she knows is the evil that CeCe Drake created in her. CeCe is just as responsible and she needs to be punished, too." Underneath the mask, I could see the outline of Charles' lips curling up into a cruel smile. "When Alison gets arrested for the murder of Mona Vanderwaal, she'll stay there until she gets convicted. Then, when the time is right, she and her friends will be joining you here in my Dollhouse."

I stared at him in horror. "But how?"

"All you need to know is that once this is over, my game will be complete," he explained.

My stomach twisted with nausea. "You'll be hurting the good along with the bad. You're no better than CeCe."

"Aren't I?" Charles said arrogantly. "I'm trying to stop people like Alison DiLaurentis from causing other's suffering like your mother, Kristin, did."

Anger flooded my body. "Don't you dare use my mother as an excuse for what you're doing."

He didn't say anything for a minute. "It may comfort you to know that your mother is in a much safer place now."

"My mom left me," I disagreed.

"She never lied about her love for you. Though suffering at the hands of your father, she's found peace, which is all any of us can hope for."

My insides boiled over. "You don't know anything about my mother!"

"People steal and lie, and don't get caught," Charles droned on. "It's the way of the world. You know that better than anyone. You've lived your life as a drug user without a care of whom you hurt. Addiction has ruined your life. Live or die, make your choice."

"You're insane," I spat.

I was stunned by a sharp, hot electricity that shot into my body with alarming speed, from my toes to my head, cutting across my skin. Charles turned the dial on a remote device and a shock of fire struck my back, and then I heard the sickening zapping of electricity as the impact exploded, making sparks fly and ricochet off the fence. I couldn't hold back the scream of agony anymore that ripped out of my throat.

I felt the warm wetness on my hands and head and saw my blood pooling onto the floor, spreading crimson red. I gasped for air, and my body was aching. I suddenly felt weak.

I tried raising my arms to protect myself, but my limbs felt leaden and useless. I prayed for him to make it quick as the flow of blood sucked away my consciousness. There was a searing pain and some flashes of white light, and then everything faded to black.

"Jess?" Someone was shaking me, and I could hear Jason's voice. But it sounded fuzzy and far away.

I blinked, feeling dazed and confused. An unsettling feeling swelled in my stomach. I started to hyperventilate, feeling as though my lungs were filled with water. It felt like I was drowning. When my vision cleared, Jason was looking at me with concern and I was back in the art gallery. His hands gripped my elbows, keeping me from falling.

Suddenly, I remembered everything that had happened. I knew how I was supposed to stop Charles.

About an hour or so later, I stood nearby the finalists art exhibit with Spencer, Hanna, and Emily as a forensics team fluttered around, taking photos and fingerprints of evidence. They'd stuffed the photographs of the five of us into the back of a big white van and put everything else into clean, plastic bags, so I didn't see what they had found. Not that I wanted to. It was beyond disturbing to think that Charles had taken pictures of the girls while they were unconscious in the Dollhouse, from when he'd kidnapped them. Although I had no memory of him taking pictures of me, it still made me nauseous just thinking about it. Even with cops guarding every entrance, Charles had still managed to slip back out of the building unnoticed.

After the creepy photos were found of the girls and I in the gallery, the police were called to the scene and had put up yellow DO NOT CROSS tape all over the area. The entire Rosewood PD was off on a manhunt, searching for Charles. But I had a bad feeling that he was already past the Rosewood town line by now, hiding from the Rosewood Police.

It had only been an hour since the cops arrived to investigate the crime scene, but the message from A still plagued my mind. _No Son Lindas_. What did it mean? What was A trying to tell us? As much as I wanted to believe this new threat wasn't real, the note he'd left on the wall told me otherwise. If what Charles said was true, not only had he been trying to exploit my friends and I, but he was sending Tanner a message. When she rescued the girls from the Dollhouse three weeks ago, when I had escaped, he thought she took something that belonged to him.

I grimaced. We were his property. The realization made me so angry, I wanted to hit something.

As my eyes moved to the photo walls, I noticed Aria and her mom, Ella, talking to Lieutenant Tanner and I tensed. With Jonny still on the loose, being in such close quarters to Tanner made me uncomfortable. I was a witness in Jonny's case to get him convicted of the felonies he'd committed in both Italy and Ohio. And who knew what he had planned under his sleeve? I was just a pawn in A's sick little game. Although if I hadn't been such a coward and just told the cops the truth about Jonny from the beginning, none of this would have happened.

"Spencer."

We all turned as Toby came rushing into the art gallery towards Spencer, dressed in a grey T-shirt and dark jeans. Since Toby had been feeling sick from the overdose of pot gummy bears he'd accidently eaten–the pot that was meant for me–he wasn't able to attend the art gallery opening tonight. The thought made my stomach tighten with guilt.

Spencer immediately ran into Toby's arms, resting her head easily against his chest. "You're here," she murmured through closed eyes.

"I came as soon as I heard." Toby kissed Spencer's head and wrapped his arms around her tightly, while rubbing her back comfortingly.

My eyes fell on their entwined bodies, noting how at ease Spencer seemed to be in Toby's arms. He reached around to rub his hand against the bulge on Spencer's stomach, as if to comfort the baby, too. She gazed up at him with such love in her eyes. The love between Spencer and Toby was undeniable. I felt a pang of jealousy. But that was the hard thing about love–it was just another game. And I couldn't risk getting my heart broken again. My heart had seen too much hurt, suffered too many scars.

"He was in this building!" I heard Ella say.

Spencer, Toby, Emily, and Hanna and I glanced at Aria's mother as she argued with Tanner.

"We are dusting for fingerprints," Tanner answered calmly. "We have hours of security camera footage to review. We will comb through everything until we find another piece of the puzzle."

"When are you gonna find him?" Ella yelled.

"I have to get back to the precinct." Tanner's eyes rested on Ella and Aria. "I ask that each of you give your statement to my detectives before you leave."

Gritting my teeth, I pushed my way out of the gallery and walked over to the back of the building by the valet parking drop-off, waiting for my car to arrive. I pulled my cell phone from my bag and checked to see if there were any new messages, but there wasn't. Josh still wasn't returning my calls. Irritated, I shoved my phone back into my purse's inside pocket.

As I glanced around at the lit-up buildings, I saw Josh crossing the street towards me and I sighed loudly, agitated. He was dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt and black tie, his wavy blonde hair combed out of his eyes.

I was still furious with him for giving me the silent treatment. For as long as I'd known him, Josh had been the rock for me to lean on during the darkest times of my life. What could have changed in the last two days that would make him break his streak of refusing to answer my phone calls and text messages? What difference would one art gallery opening make?

When his eyes found mine, he stood a foot away from me tentatively. "Hey."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Alison told me you were up for an award tonight." He looked up at the gallery, noting the flurry of cops bustling in and out of the Rowitz building. "What's going on?"

I gave Josh an exasperated look. "You shouldn't be here right now. Just go home."

"Not until you talk to me."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Me? What about the several messages I left you?"

"I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry, Jess." Josh bit his bottom lip, one of his cute quirky habits that I loved. It made me hate him even more. Except… I kind of didn't.

I glared at him. "You have no right to be mad at Jason," I said angrily, referring to our fight Monday night. "He was only trying to protect me just like you were."

"Alright, then how about you tell me why you left Ohio?" Josh asked angrily.

I blinked, taken off guard.

"First, you don't even tell me that your psycho ex-boyfriend is after you," he went on. "Then you run off without saying a word. You're my best friend. I thought I knew you."

My eyes stung with tears. "You do."

His face was a mixture of anger and hurt. "We used to tell each other everything. Do you remember that? You just took off and didn't tell me." He shook his head in disappointment.

I looked down at the black peep-toe heels Ali had loaned to me for the gallery opening. "I know, I'm sorry. So much has happened, Josh."

"I guess I didn't matter enough for you to tell me the truth," Josh said, looking more and more pained. "I'm always your second choice."

"Don't say that," I pleaded. "You don't understand."

Josh's blue eyes flashed angrily. "No, I don't. So why don't you explain it to me?"

I swallowed. I didn't just leave Ohio because I was tired of getting kicked and slapped and thrown down the stairs by my father. I left because Jonny had tried to kill me and now apparently it looked like he was working for A, and they wouldn't stop coming after me until I was dead.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to get you involved," I said. "And I knew that you would try to come with me. I couldn't let you get hurt. This was something I had to do alone."

His mouth tightened. "You must love doing everything alone."

"No, I really hate it." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "Look, I can't get into this with you right now. I have to call Ali. She's–" I stopped midsentence, a horrible realization forming in my mind. _Oh no…_

Josh frowned. "What is it?"

I couldn't answer. My throat had suddenly gone dry.

My earlier conversation with Ali popped up in my mind, recalling what she had told me about Charles' investigation. He was the only thing she had talked about today other than her kiss with Lorenzo. And she had to be looking for answers about Charles' identity, since she'd only recently discovered he was her long-lost brother.

But why would that matter to her? We already knew that he was A and the one responsible for kidnapping seven teenage girls. What was so important that would make Ali miss the most important night of my life?

I froze. Hadn't I just told Ali about how I thought prom was meaningless with the whole A mess going on? How I thought it was pointless with Charles running around freely in Rosewood? The very person who was being investigated by Lorenzo Calderon.

I ran the equation over and over again in my head until it made sense: Lorenzo was helping Tanner and Toby with the investigation for Charles. Now Ali was conveniently missing after she said she would come to the gallery opening tonight, which was so unlike her. Therefore, she was probably at the Rosewood Police Station right now looking through Charles' files and boxes of evidence from the Dollhouse.

Would Alison really break into the police station to figure out what the cops were up to? To find out who Charles was? About whether he was out for blood, not just me and the others, but for her as well? But if that were the case, how was she planning to get in? She wouldn't be able to get inside that part of the station without a police officer or their ID card…

I took out my phone again, frantically dialing Alison's number. It rang and rang before going directly to voicemail. A feeling of dread passed through my body.

"Jess?" Josh asked, sounding anxious. "What's wrong?"

"I think Ali might be trying to break into the evidence room at the police station," I said.

"What makes you think that?"

"I just…I have a bad feeling," I stammered. "Come on."

I took Josh's hand and led him over to the valet parking, where Spencer, Hanna, and Emily were gathered around Spencer's car, whispering about something in hushed tones. There were police cars everywhere, and cops were still carrying out the framed photographs sealed up in plastic bags. I cringed. Every time a flash went off from one of their long-lensed cameras, it reminded me of the creepy photos from A. Spencer, Aria, Hanna, and Emily lying unconscious and zombie-like on hospital gurneys. Myself, chained up and bloody. And then there was the note Charles had typed on the plaque of my art wall. _No son Lindas._

Then I saw Hanna leaning across the hood of Spencer's Highlander, staring intently at something, an anxious expression on her face. Emily stood next to her at the car while Spencer lingered by the driver's side, looking just as worried. Something was wrong.

I looked in the direction they were staring at. Across the street, someone in a small black car was talking on a cell phone. Whoever was in the car looked to be tall and lean, probably a guy. His face was hidden by the darkness of the night.

The guy said something into his cell phone and then he nodded, listening to the person on the other end. After a moment, he spoke again, his face twisted with an expression I couldn't read. Then the guy hung up. I squinted through the darkness, trying to get a good look at his face. When he looked up, I gasped. I instantly recognized him. That wavy blonde hair, those pink bow-shaped lips, those deep blue eyes.

It was Rhys, the guy from the photo on Hanna's phone.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

"Who is that?" Josh asked, squinting.

As I reached Spencer, Hanna, and Emily, I overheard them talking quietly at the curb and stopped short.

"He's probably calling his secret boss to report that he screwed Aria out of her internship," Hanna was saying. "We should follow him."

Something seemed a little off, like there was a small detail I was missing.

"Yeah," Spencer answered, looking at Rhys. "But what about Jess? We can't just leave her here."

"Holbrook won't let anything happen to her with the police out there looking for Charles," Emily assured her.

"I still can't believe Holbrook is her dad," Hanna said a second later.

Spencer pursed her lips, looking deep in thought. "We have to tell Jess about Holbrook. She deserves to know the truth."

I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling all the blood drain away from my face. A sick feeling began to wash over me. Suddenly, the important pieces to the puzzle snapped into place. It all made sense now.

Josh touched my shoulder. "Jess, are you okay?"

I was too numb to answer. I turned to the others. "What about Holbrook?" I demanded.

Spencer, Hanna, and Emily jumped, looking startled. There were guilty expressions on each of their faces.

"We were going to tell you," Emily stammered.

I stared at them, feeling the realization hitting me hard like a physical force to the chest, taking all the oxygen out of my lungs. "You _knew?_ " My voice quivered with anger.

"We saw it in your file at Radley," Hanna admitted. "There was a birth certificate naming Holbrook as your biological father." Her eyes dropped to the ground, unable to meet my eyes.

My knees felt weak. "How long have you known?"

"When we snuck into Radley to get Charles' file," Spencer answered quietly.

"You knew this entire time and you didn't say anything?" I clenched up my hands into fists, enraged.

"Jess–" Spencer stepped closer to me and tried reaching for me, but I wrenched my hands away.

"Don't!" I snapped. "You lied to me! Just stay away from me, all of you!" Then I picked up the hem of my dress and started running for my car.

"Jess, wait!" I heard Spencer call, but I didn't stop. I kept going until I reached the gallery, tears streaking down my cheeks. I couldn't face them right now.

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. At the top of the steps was a long dark hallway with paintings from the gallery's previous exhibits and contests on either side of the walls. One door at the end of the hall was cracked open. I stepped inside, grateful for the privacy.

My nose twitched. The room smelled like dust and mothballs. It was dark, and the only thing I could make out was a coatrack in front of me. I fumbled for the light switch on the right side of the wall, and the room flooded with light from an overhead light bulb that swung eerily. The coatrack was filled with jackets and sweaters with tags attached to the collar. The names and a coat number were printed on the tags. I quickly realized this was a closet used for checking in the guests' jackets and turned for the door. I had to leave.

As I carefully maneuvered around the racks of coats, the floorboard underneath me creaked. I froze. Then I heard footsteps coming towards me and a shadow appeared in the doorway.

I searched frantically around the closet for a weapon of some kind to defend myself with, but the only thing I could find was an umbrella leaning against the wall. I gripped the handle in my hands and pointed the tip in the stranger's direction, prepared to fight.

Jason emerged into the light. I lowered the umbrella, my heart racing with relief.

"Jason!" I cried. "You gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry," he said. "I saw you come up here and I followed you."

I set the umbrella down and met his gaze. A hot, excited feeling swelled in my stomach as Jason's eyes moved over my face, trying to hide his quick glance of my long, bare legs.

Jason stepped closer, staring into my eyes with concern. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

One corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. "You're a terrible liar."

I looked away. "It's complicated."

Jason touched my hand, sending an electric, hot current through my body. His hand felt warm and soft against mine. He was so close to me that I could smell his minty breath.

Suddenly, I heard more footsteps down the hall and I saw Josh enter the closet. His expression was worried. When he saw me, his face lit up with relief.

"Jess, thank god. I was looking everywhere for you." Josh noticed Jason standing right next to me and scowled. "What are you doing here?"

"I was worried about Jess," Jason answered.

Josh turned to me. "Listen, if he's bothering you, we can just call security."

Jason smiled humorlessly. "You can't claim her forever."

"And you are such a jerk," Josh retorted.

I stood in between them. "Not now guys, okay?" I looked at Josh. "Can you drive me to the police station? I can't get to my car."

"Sure. I'll meet you outside." He kept his eyes on Jason's as he headed downstairs to the valet parking lot.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Jason asked me softly, almost tender.

"Let's just say some secrets are better left buried," I said.

"If this is about my dad–" Jason trailed off.

"It's not," I insisted. "It's about my life. I have to go."

As I started to walk away, Jason touched my arm. "Wait. I know that you're going through a lot right now, but just let me help you."

I shook my head, overcome with a frenzy of emotions. "I'm sorry, I can't do this right now." I hurried down the stairs, leaving Jason to watch me helplessly.

At the landing, I saw a familiar dark-haired police officer from across the room. An uncomfortable feeling washed over me. It was Holbrook. He was standing near one of the front entrance doors, wearing a black suit and there was a gun on his belt. Although Holbrook was supposed to be looking out for Charles, he seemed far more interested in fixing his gaze on me.

It had taken Josh and I exactly ten minutes to climb into his enormous Chevy truck, roar through traffic, and drive to the police station. When we pulled into the parking lot, the two of us leaned forward over the dash. There were about ten squad cars parked by the front entrance.

"Shit," Josh muttered under his breath. "How are we supposed to get in without tipping off the police about Ali?"

I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the truck. "We don't."

Josh opened his car door and followed me as I moved silently around the back of the police station. "Jess, where are you going? Are you insane?"

I didn't answer. I stayed close to the south side of the building, keeping low. There was a dumpster separating the Apple Rose Grille from the police station. When I reached the back door, I felt my hair for a bobby pin and pulled one out.

Josh was right next to me. "What are you doing?"

"You never break in somewhere unless you know the way out," I whispered.

I stuck the bobby pin into the keyhole and put pressure on the doorknob as I felt around for the lock. Then I gently pushed the bobby pin up, hearing the lock click open.

I smiled at him smugly. "It's all about the tumblers."

I pushed the door open. It was cold and dark inside. The hallway seemed to stretch on for miles, forking off into different directions. Doors with small glass windows were on the left and right of Josh and I. I found the one marked EVIDENCE and peered inside. The blinds were pulled down and the lights had been switched off, so I couldn't see anything.

Josh tried the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. "It's locked. Do you think she's in there?"

"There's only one way to find out."

I started to pick the lock when Josh grabbed my wrist. "Wait, let's think about this for a second. You don't know who's in there. It could be a cop and you're already a person of interest for Jonny."

I looked directly into his eyes. "I'm willing to take that chance. Are you?"

After a minute, Josh said, "I trust you."

I gave him a small smile. "You better."

I kicked the door open with the heel of my shoe and entered the small evidence examination room. Josh followed behind me closely, his eyes darting around warily. A long, pine-wooden desk in the center of the room held a Mac computer and a desk lamp. Every available surface was covered in documents, manila folders, and evidence bags. A box labeled EVIDENCE sat on top of a filing cabinet pushed up against the northeast side of the wall. In front of the desk was a white board tacked with pictures of the DiLaurentis and the Hastings family, drawn into a crime map with a black marker. Some of the photos looked to have been taken three years ago: There was the picture of Alison's hand poking out of the dirt from when she'd been buried alive accidently by her mother. Another was Jason's high school photo and a newspaper clipping of Alison's MISSING flyer that had been hung up around Rosewood during her disappearance. I spotted two pictures in the bottom left corner, one of Spencer and another of her dad, Peter Hastings. On the right side of the board, someone had written TIME FRAME and LOCATION in red marker.

Ali stood over a box of more plastic evidence bags. Each one contained objects that belonged to Charles, picked up by patrol officers who had done a through search of the Dollhouse. Each bag had a description label of what kind of object it was and the location of where it had been found.

Ali picked up a bag containing a familiar-looking, sterling silver baby rattle. I stared at her in a state of shock and panic.

I stepped towards her carefully. "Ali, don't."

She turned, her face puckered with emotion. "How did you know I was here?"

"For the same reason you knew how to find me," I answered. "I have this misfortune of knowing how you think."

Ali looked at Josh, noticing him standing next to me. "You think Charles killed my mom, don't you?"

"I think the situation is complicated," Josh said. "But your mom was always nice to me. And if Charles really did have something to do with her death, then you need to stop."

"Ali, put down the rattle," I pleaded. "There is nothing in this room you'll be able to find that can help you."

"She's right," Josh said right after. "And we need to leave before Tanner or some other cop finds you in here. Jess is already in trouble for Jonny."

But Ali gripped the plastic bag, refusing to let go. "Maybe there's something in here that explains why he did it." Ali shook her head, her eyes glassy. She seemed to be ignoring everything that Josh and I were saying.

"It won't make you feel any better." I took her hand urgently. "C'mon, let's go home."

"My brother couldn't have done all those things," she insisted. "He wouldn't have killed our mother. Maybe he had no other choice."

I blew out a breath in between my lips. Did Alison actually think that somehow made what Charles did okay? "We always have a choice," I finally said. "But you'd rather Charles _hurt_ your friends than believe he could've kidnapped us."

Ali's expression was hurt. "That's not fair."

I looked at her sympathetically. "Look, I'm sorry. But you have to consider the possibility that Tanner is right about Charles. That he was keeping all this stuff to get to know us, figure out how we think. He's not the same person we once knew."

"You don't understand," Ali snapped.

"I didn't know your brother," Josh began, "but I know you. The person who did those things, who killed your mother, is not you. You're the strongest, kindest, pain-in-the-ass person I've ever met. You didn't give up on your friends even when everyone else had lost hope. That is who you are. I know you're trying to find a way to make up all those horrible years to Charles because he's your brother and you feel somehow responsible, but you don't have to anymore. Because it's not your fault."

I looked at Josh, feeling touched by his speech. Tears welled up in Ali's eyes. Her bottom lip quivered, and it looked like she wanted to say something. Suddenly, the lights flipped back on. Tanner stood in the doorway with a stern look on her face. "You've crossed a line, young lady." She looked pointedly at Alison.

My hands trembled. The last time I'd spoken to a cop was when I'd been arrested for helping Jonny steal paintings from an art museum in Colorado and he'd left me to take the fall. Just seeing Lieutenant Tanner here in the police station dredged up horrible memories that I thought I'd long since buried.

"Actually, we were just leaving," I said, tugging on Ali's hand and leading her away from the desk.

"That won't be necessary." Tanner shut the door and turned to Ali. "I find you very intriguing, Alison. This is the last place I'd think to find you and yet, here you are. Exactly where you're not supposed to be." Her voice dripped with fury.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose up, an unsettling feeling welling up inside of me. I stood closer to Ali protectively, as if to shield her away from Tanner, and held her free hand.

"I have questions," Ali responded in a small voice.

"The information in this room is sensitive and you've jeopardized that," Tanner explained angrily.

"I didn't touch anything," Ali said.

Tanner pointed at the evidence bag in Ali's hands. "I need you to put that down."

Alison stared down fixedly at the bag for a moment, as if the answer to all her questions were written there. Her eyebrows knitted together as she studied the rattle.

"Ali, don't be stupid," Josh scolded.

Finally, she placed the bag back inside the evidence box. A tense. electrified feeling filled the room. Ali looked at another whiteboard behind Tanner, with notes written down about Charles' motives.

Ali raised her chin at the board and grimaced. "Superficial charm? After everything I've heard on the news, it almost sounds like a compliment. Is all this what the profiler thinks about my brother?" She looked at Tanner in disgust.

"Your brother." Tanner said it as if Ali had just told her she was infected with the plague. "And you can recognize his baby rattle?"

Ali glanced between the plastic bag containing the baby rattle and Tanner. "It's actually mine. There was a whole christening set from my godparents. Pieces were lost. I still have the hairbrush."

Tears sprung to my eyes, suddenly remembering. A few weeks after I was born, my mother named Jessica as my godmother, before my dad started beating me, and she'd given me a baptizing gift set. Our parents had christened Ali and baptized me together as babies for our two families' combined ceremonies. I remembered the white lace baby dress that my mom had dressed me in for my baptism, including the silver rattle Ali held in her tiny hand after the ceremony.

"We found it along with a few other personal effects in the bunker," Tanner told her quietly. She paused, looking thoughtful. "Why do you think that is?"

"He took it," Ali guessed. "Kept it. Maybe he feels bad about trying to hurt me when I was a baby." She shrugged. "He has other things, like the home movies my father gave you. Maybe part of him wants to stay connected to the family."

Tanner nodded. "That's a possibility. There's another. I don't think it will please your sense of curiosity about Charles, your brother. In my experience, murderers can be as sentimental as mothers. Personal items can help focus them on their victims, or commemorate what they've done."

"This is harmless," Ali said, gesturing to the baby rattle.

"A baby rattle that you shook in your little, pink fist?" Tanner said skeptically. "To your brother, that is a piece of you. As intimate as hair, teeth, skin."

"Ali, don't listen to her," Josh said protectively, glowering at Tanner.

"What will happen…" Ali swallowed. "When you find him?" I squeezed her hand.

"We'll bring him to justice," Tanner answered. "With lethal force if need be." Ali looked away, trying to blink away the tears.

"You may not want this for your brother," Tanner went on, "but it's necessary for the predator who put seven girls through absolute hell."

Ali glanced down and pressed her lips together, her forehead crumpling, seeming as though she was about to cry.

I glared at Tanner. "Don't you think she's been through enough? You don't need to be cruel."

"I'm simply telling you what will happen when Charles is caught," she replied simply. "And we will find him."

I swallowed hard. I felt certain that there was a hidden meaning behind her words meant just for me and that she knew all about me. Panic constricted my throat as I imagined the police crawling all over the acres and acres of woods in Colorado, searching Jonny's small cabin for evidence of several grand theft felonies, sexual and battery assault, and vandalism. And possibly finding it.

"I'll take Officer Calderon's access card," Tanner informed Alison. "I don't think you'll find it useful anymore."

Slowly, Ali handed her a clear plastic I.D. card with Lorenzo's name and picture on the front. My mouth gaped open in shock. I was too stunned to think about it clearly. The only thing that I could grasp in my brain was Ali's mindless and idiotic decision. Ali had done some reckless things, dangerous even, but nothing came close to this. It made no sense. Why would she _steal_ a cop's access card just to rummage through Charles' childhood possessions? I turned to Ali, trying to catch her gaze, but she lowered her eyes shamefully.

I bit down on the inside of my cheeks. I'd just found out a secret my mother had been keeping from me, things I wished she'd told me years ago, and now the same thing was happening to Ali and Jason.

Ali, Josh, and I started to turn for the door, then Tanner paused. "Oh, Jess, I forgot to ask you. How did you know Jonny Raymond?"

I froze, feeling my heart beating hard and fast in my chest, wishing I could just disappear.

"What?" I heard myself ask faintly.

"When we questioned his former landlord, Veronica Hastings, she said that Jonny had been arrested for breaking in and entering an art gallery to steal paintings, which he claimed he'd spray painted at Hollis College. Would you say that you share the same interest in street art?"

I pressed my lips together. "Not anymore."

"What a shame." Her voice was pleasant, but something in the way she said it told me she didn't think so. I started to wonder if Tanner was only asking questions she already knew the answer to just to catch me in a lie.

"When was the last time you saw Jonny?" Tanner continued. "Is there any place you can think of that he would run off to? Stay with a friend perhaps? Return to Italy?"

The only time I'd really seen Jonny was when he chased me down in the woods just before I hopped a bus here to Rosewood, but there was no way I was going to tell Tanner that. It made me nervous that she was asking me questions about Jonny and that Ali was standing right next to me, who knew the truth about what really happened. Tanner could have asked about where Payton was, or if I'd heard about the three girls Jonny had assaulted from Colorado. Or if I knew anything about the death of Alison's mother.

I tried to compose the most sincere and innocent expression on my face. "Look, I wish I could help you, but I really don't know where Jonny is. I'm not hiding him out in the woods somewhere and slipping him food. And he's not staying at my aunt's cabin. I'm as clueless as you are."

I wondered if this was how Alison pulled out her most useful lying tricks–by manipulating them into something she could believe. She had a talent for making people believe her lies.

"Well, if you can think of anything, please don't hesitate to give me a call." Tanner handed me her business card.

I could only nod dumbly. "Okay."

And although she was smiling, the look on her face seemed to say, _I'm not through with you yet._ As I followed Alison and Josh out the door, the old scars on my ribs throbbed with painful memories.

Spencer

Once I was sure we were a safe distance away, I pulled out behind Rhys' car, driving slowly to keep up with him. Emily sat in the front passenger seat of my Toyota Highlander as Hanna hid in the backseat. The winding roads grew darker and spookier with each turn that Rhys took, and the black-night sky only made it more frightening and unsettling. When I saw Rhys glance in his review mirror, I darted to the side of the road, thinking he must have seen me, but he continued down the dark street in front of us. The car's headlights felt hot against my face.

 _Calm down_ , I told myself.

My mind spun in an endless loop of information that didn't make any sense. Rhys looked exactly like Jason and Charles was a DiLaurentis, so therefore he had to be A. But how could Rhys know so much about us when we knew nothing about him? Who was he? What did he want? I was too panicked to think about any of it clearly.

Rhys drove through the opposite side of town and he was heading south, moving further away from Rosewood. Everyone was silent and there were barely any cars passing us. I took a deep breath and eyed my phone on the console, considering calling Toby. I knew he'd come down with no question. But then several different images swirled around in my head: Toby's body strewn all over the road in pieces, twisted metal, and blood. I saw myself kneeling beside Toby, screaming for him. I shuddered. The last time Toby had been driving, he'd nearly gotten killed by A. I couldn't risk him getting hurt again.

Rhys' car was still in front of us. And then, suddenly, his car flashed its right hand signal and he was turning onto the crest of a steep, bumpy hill. We couldn't lose him now. I turned sharply in the direction he was going, driving downhill behind the car to follow him.

Rhys drove down a few twisting roads and across a dark alley, driving through an opened wire-mesh electronic gate. He stopped in front of a four-story brick factory with tall metal pillars that ran up to the exterior of the building. The streets were deafly quiet, and the windows were darkened. From what I could tell, the factory was abandoned. A big falling-to-pieces sign above the entrance doors read STRAUSS DOLLS.

I parked at the farthest end of the lot to avoid getting caught by Rhys–it was close enough to see him, but far enough away without being seen. Hanna and Emily both stared out the windshield with wide, nervous eyes. "What is this place?" Emily asked quietly.

"Another real estate investment for the Carissimi Group?" I guessed dryly.

"Or another dollhouse for Charles," Hanna volunteered. "Bet there's plenty of room inside to lock us up."

Emily, Hanna and I watched as Rhys got out of his car and walked towards the back door of building.

Emily turned urgently to Hanna and I. "What do we do? Do we follow him?"

"There's no way I'm going in there," Hanna whispered.

"No," I agreed, "let's just hang tight. Let's see what he does."

Rhys looked warily over his shoulder before disappearing inside the factory, as if he was worried someone might be following him. The lights from inside were still out, so I watched the back entrance for anything suspicious.

After a few minutes, I glanced at the watch on my wrist for the time and sighed. It was nearly 10 P.M. Most of Rosewood's inhabitants were probably fast asleep in the safety of their homes, due to Rosewood's new 10 P.M. curfew. It was so quiet, I could hear the car's engine humming and the quick, uneven rhythm of my pulse. I shivered. I would've felt better if Toby was here. He was like my archangel. With him, I was safe.

Hanna and Emily zeroed in on the factory building from their seats, staring through the windows, searching for something suspicious. I sat back in the driver's seat as they continued to watch.

Emily broke the silence. "It's quiet here. Too quiet."

"Why do you think he picked this place?" Hanna questioned.

Before I could respond, the sound of gravel crunching prickled in my ears and a car's headlights slid across the parking lot. My heart raced. "Someone's coming," I whispered.

Emily, Hanna and I quickly slid down in our seats, peering over the dashboard. A small, dark blue car parked into a space next to Rhys' at the end of the lot, but I couldn't see the driver inside. Was that one of A's helpers? After a few seconds, the driver stepped out of the car and I gasped. _Oh my god_.

It was Clark Wilkins, Aria's friend from the photography studio at Hollis College. He was of a medium build, lean, with dark skin and cropped, curly black hair. He was still wearing the same clothes from the art gallery opening earlier: navy blue suit jacket over a burgundy white printed button-down shirt, dark jeans, and charcoal high-top shoes. Clark glanced around the factory, then sprinted over to the back door where we'd seen Rhys enter not moments before.

"What's Clark doing here?" Emily wondered. "He was at the gallery tonight.

"Did he follow us?" Hanna asked right after.

"I don't know," I responded. "The last time I saw him, he was talking to Aria."

"And now he's going inside…to talk to A." Hanna glanced furtively between Emily and I. "We have to get out of here."

"I'm texting Aria." Emily quickly pulled out her phone and started typing on the little keypad. "She's still with the police."

"Good," I said. "Maybe this time they won't let Charles and his henchmen get away."

I slowly pulled my car out of the lot and drove back onto the empty road. Clark had to be working with Rhys, otherwise why would he be at the same place that Rhys was? Which also meant he knew who A was. The only question was _why?_

When we finally reached the Montgomery's craftsman-style house, I cut the engine and all three of us hopped out. All the lights were on and Bryan Montgomery's black Nissan was sitting in the driveway as if nothing had changed. I peered up at the second-story window nervously, trying to think of an excuse as to why the girls and I were coming over so late to see Aria.

Emily, Hanna and I walked up the pathway to the front steps and waited until someone answered, too freaked out by the possibility that Aria's dad might be home and hear us ring the doorbell. A second later, I saw a shadow moving from behind the frosted-colored window on the front door as someone approached. I held my breath.

Aria flung open the door, still wearing her double strapped, black-and-green ballerina halter dress that came up above her knees. She looked at all of us in confusion. "Hey. I got your text. Why didn't you just ring the doorbell?"

Hanna followed Emily as they walked into Aria's house, but didn't answer.

"We thought that your dad might be home," I explained.

"He's upstairs," Aria said.

I glanced up at the long carpeted stairway nearby the door in relief, and the girls assembled on the couch and big brown leather chairs in the living room. I sat stiffly on the other side of the couch next to Hanna. It was unreal to think that Clark could be working for A, much less someone that Aria was starting to become attached to. I could barely find the words. I glanced at Emily and Hanna to gauge their reactions, but they were both looking away as if they wanted to bury themselves into a hole.

Aria looked weirded out. "Guys, what's going on?"

I motioned to Hanna to start. "Hey, I barely know the guy," she protested.

"What guy?" Aria asked.

When Emily glanced at Hanna and I, we looked back at her uncertainly. I didn't have to read Hanna's mind to know that she was thinking the same thing: this was going to crush Aria. First Ezra, now Clark. When was it going to end?

"Fine," Emily said. "I'll tell her." She met Aria's eyes empathically. "Your friend, Clark, we're not so sure he's a friend."

Aria frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"We saw him at the abandoned doll factory tonight," Hanna confessed. "He was meeting some guy named Rhys Matthews."

Aria leaned forward in her chair, still not looking convinced. "Are you sure that it was Clark?"

"None of us saw him leave the gallery and then he just shows up at this place," Emily reasoned.

"Well, did you ask him?" she asked.

"No," I answered. "It didn't feel safe to stick around and ask questions. This guy, Rhys Matthews, he works for the Carissimi Group and we think that he might be working for Charles."

"And when you see Rhys…" Hanna trailed off. "Aria, I'm telling you, there's a chance he actually is Charles."

An eerie silence filled the room. Despite my brave words, a million tiny shivers chilled my bones and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Then I thought about Jess alone in that cabin and I tried to stay strong.

And if I couldn't be strong for my friends, then at the very least I could try for my baby.

Jess

I gazed across the grassy field of the Southfield Playground. Along with a plain metal swing set, it had monkey bars, a free-standing slide, and a jungle gym. The entire area was deserted and the woodsy trails leading out to the playground were empty; there wasn't a person in sight. Dark clouds had hovered overhead in the night sky, reflecting of how I was feeling inside.

I was sitting on one of swings of the playground's swing set, brooding over the shocking revelation that Holbrook was my biological father. It had been hours since Josh and I dropped Ali off at her house. I'd been feeling too conflicted to stay overnight with her, so I told Josh I wanted to walk home. Then, after walking around Rosewood for an hour, I wandered over to the Rosewood playground.

 _Holbrook is your father, Jess. Deal with it_.

My stomach twisted in tight knots. It hurt just to think about it. Suddenly, I spotted a lone figure moving through the trees and I froze. When I saw the person emerge, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Caleb Rivers, Hanna's boyfriend and infamous illegal hacker at Rosewood High.

Caleb glanced up from the other side of the field about a yard away and met my eyes. I looked away, hoping maybe if I ignored him that he would take the hint and leave me alone. He was the last person I wanted to see right now.

Instead, Caleb trudged across the grass towards the swingset until he was standing right next to me. He resembled the typical bad boy appearance in a black leather jacket over a charcoal-grey hoodie, dark jeans, and boots. He was exactly the type of guy I used to date, and exactly the guy I should avoid.

"Hey," Caleb said.

I felt a prickle of irritation. "What are you doing here?"

"I was picking up dinner for Hanna and I saw you."

"Well, come any closer and I'll kill you," I threatened.

Caleb smirked. "I'll take my chances."

I eyed the six-pack of beer bottles he was carrying and raised a disapproving eyebrow at him. "Is that for Hanna, too?"

"It's been a long night." Caleb gestured to the swing beside me. "Mind if I sit?"

I shrugged. "Free country."

He sat down in the swing next to mine, but didn't say anything, seeming unphased by my unfriendliness. An awkward silence fell over us. The only sounds I could hear were the forest rabbits scuttling in the bushes.

Caleb pulled out a beer bottle and took a swig. When I peeked at him, I got the feeling that he was trying to make small talk with me, but I couldn't figure out why. I'd never really spoken to him before and I had no desire to now. And then it suddenly hit me: Hanna told him _everything_. It all made sense now. That was why he was here, why he wanted to talk to me. Hanna asked Caleb to check up on me.

I glared at him. "Hanna told you, didn't she?"

He looked meaningfully into my eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think I hate you both," I muttered darkly.

"You put on a brave face." He sounded amused.

I turned to him sharply. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, we're not that different, you and me. You think that if you shut people out that you'll never get hurt."

"It's worked for me."

"And what happens when it doesn't?" Caleb's brown eyes penetrated mine.

His question annoyed me; I didn't need him analyzing me and telling me what I needed. I was perfectly fine on my own.

"If you want to put yourself in danger, fine," Caleb continued. "But I'm not going to let you drag Hanna into it. So you can either face Holbrook and find your family, or you can do what you've always done best: be alone."

I looked away and jutted out my chin defiantly.

"Am I wrong?" he asked smugly.

I ignored him. After a few minutes, I furrowed my brow deeply and stared across the park angrily, hating Holbrook for leaving me with my dad to hurt me, hating my mom for lying to me. Hating myself for feeling this way. I wished none of this had happened.

"He was living in Philadelphia while my dad smacked me around," I finally said, referring to Holbrook. "He could've come for me."

"Maybe," Caleb mused. "Or maybe he didn't know how."

"How could he not know?" I spat. "I'm his daughter. You can't just make up years of abandonment and expect everything to be okay." I bit back the moisture in my eyes that threatened to spill over.

"Don't you want to at least talk to him?" Caleb asked. "You must have a lot of questions."

"I don't want to hear anything he has to say," I replied.

"You've been alone for this long. You owe it to yourself to get answers."

"How could you possibly understand what I'm going through?" I said angrily.

He swallowed deeply before answering, looking pained. "I never met my father until recently, and my mom left when I was five. But it turns out, my dad was pretending to be my uncle for all those years."

"Why?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"He wasn't ready to be a dad, so he left," Caleb answered.

"But he's in your life now," I guessed.

Caleb nodded. "After my mom left, I was put into foster care. I moved around a lot, so I was always packing for the next place. I kept looking for a blank slate, a do-over. When I first came to Rosewood, I was alone. But then I met Hanna, and I found all these friends that I never thought I would trust."

I frowned. It bothered me to hear that part of Caleb's life. It reminded me too much of myself. "Well, you're lucky."

"It changed things," he went on. "It could for you too, if you let it."

"I can't stay here, Caleb."

"You can keep running," he said. "But you're not going to get the fresh start you're looking for until you face whatever's making you run. Maybe you should ask yourself why you keep running away."

I realized there were tears in my eyes, sliding down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away with my hand. "Of all the people to see me like this, it had to be you."

"Stranger things have happened in Rosewood. Trust me." A playful smile swept on Caleb's lips. "Maybe we'll actually become friends."

I grimaced. "I'm not really good with friends."

He stared directly into my eyes. "Neither am I."

I sighed. "I'm just not ready to talk to him right now."

"That's okay," Caleb said kindly. "But just know that you have friends here, Jess."

I met his eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

One corner of his mouth curled up into a crooked smile. "Sure."

I took a deep breath. "When you first met Ali, you practically tore her head off when you heard about all the awful things about her. But why not me? I've done just as terrible things."

"I guess you just reminded me of myself when I first came here to Rosewood." Caleb held my gaze. "I didn't trust anyone either."

"What makes you think I don't trust anyone?"

"You put up so many walls around yourself, nobody can touch you. It's like bricks."

"I wouldn't say bricks," I argued.

"It's a nice way to keep yourself from getting hurt."

"Why do you care so much?" I snapped, annoyed.

"Why did you come here if it wasn't for your dad?" Caleb challenged.

No one had ever asked me that before–not straight-out like that, bold.

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

I paused. "I got involved with this guy about a year ago, and he was a really bad guy. Everyone tried to tell me he was dangerous, but I wouldn't listen. Until he decided to rob an art museum."

Caleb raised one eyebrow. "A museum?"

I laughed humorlessly. "He said he was going to use the money after selling the paintings to get us out of Colorado, and I couldn't go back to Ohio." My voice sounded sad, despite my best efforts.

"You were on the run." It wasn't a question.

I nodded. "When I went to meet him later to leave for Chicago, the cops were there. Jonny was using me as his scapegoat so he could take the money and leave."

"Wait, rewind." Caleb leaned back. "Jonny, as in _Jonny Raymond?_ Spencer's psycho ex-neighbor?"

"It's nothing." I waved him off, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal. "He's just trying to get to me, that's all. I confided in him about this personal stuff from back home before I found out who he really was." I peeked at Caleb, hoping he wasn't interested by my sob story. But he looked worried, for some reason I couldn't fathom. We'd just met, after all.

Caleb made a disgusted face. "You have to tell the police, Jess."

"You don't get it." I sighed. "We spray painted murals all over Colorado. If the police catch him, they catch me, too. I'm just as implicated in this as he is."

Still, his eyes continued to watch me. "You don't know who you're dealing with. This freak could come after you again."

"I can handle Jonny," I said. "What I can't handle is another person I care about getting hurt because of me."

Caleb nodded, finally letting it go. "Fine. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If he tries to hurt you again, you call me, okay?"

"Okay," I promised.

"So it doesn't bother you?" Caleb asked after a moment, changing the subject.

I wrinkled my forehead. "Does what bother me?"

"The way people talk about you."

"No," I answered honestly, tired of trying to appear normal like everybody else. "What's one more bad mark on my record?"

Caleb laughed. He turned to me, his expression much more serious now. "Jess, just so you know, I never cared what people were saying about you."

I smiled at him half-heartedly. "You'd be the first."

Then he did something I didn't expect. He reached over and took my hand in his, sparking the first embers of friendship. I wasn't totally comfortable with Caleb holding my hand like this, but I didn't try to push him away either. It felt good.

I walked alone on my way home, counting the cracks in the sidewalk as I kept my hands stuffed inside the pockets of my sweater. It was cloudy and dark outside. When I was little, I used to dream that my father was someone else. A father who actually loved me and kept me safe.

It would've been easier to pretend that Gabe wasn't really my father, that it was all a lie. Only…it wasn't. I didn't understand any of it. My brain was overloaded with so much information and emotions, but all I could feel right now was anger, confusion, fear, and a sharp pain that hit me like a rock avalanche. My entire existence–the secrets, my dad's contempt towards me, my mother–had all been a lie. And now, having learned the truth, I kicked at a stone that was lying in the middle of the sidewalk.

Anger and resentment for Gabe burned in my throat. He'd known all this time–that I was his daughter–and instead of trying to find me, he hid. I was acutely aware of the locket hanging around my neck that was engraved with Gabe's initials, _G.H.,_ just then and I was filled with a blind fury to rip it off. My mom had let me believe that the initials on my necklace meant _something_.

I tried to cling onto the parts of my mother that was real–like her smell, when she'd rubbed my back and held me when I'd have nightmares. That had to have been real. Tears of anguish rushed down my cheeks.

I kicked the rock down the sidewalk again, putting every ounce of the betrayal I felt towards my mother into the hard hunk of stone. I started to wonder if I'd ever known her at all. _What else has she been keeping from me?_ I thought despairingly.

When I got to the cabin, I noticed a familiar sleek, silver Mercedes sitting in the driveway and frowned. That was Sasha's car. _What is she doing here?_

I walked along the pathway leading up to the front porch and stopped short. There, sitting on the stoop with a Louis Vuitton luggage bag at her feet, was Sasha Stefani, my best friend from Fairfield. She was tall and had the body frame of a ballerina dancer, with a shock of wavy dark hair that spilled down to her shoulders. Her features were delicate and perfect, like a swan. She was so pretty, it made my stomach hurt.

"Sasha?" I breathed. "What are you doing here?"

Sasha seemed to glow in the porch light–she was wearing a long-sleeved white dress that fell above her knees and charcoal-gray ankle boots. Her serious grey eyes shimmered and glittered against the starlight. She looked like a moon goddess.

Finally, she turned her eyes to mine and I saw something flickering in the deep depths that I hadn't seen before: fear.

"I didn't know where else to go," Sasha admitted in a weak voice. "My parents kicked me out."

I shook my head and blinked, Caleb's words echoing in my head. He was right; I could open myself up to someone and find the love I'd craved for so long, or risk getting hurt again.

Spencer

That same night, I drove home slowly, trying to steady the heavy wave of nausea that hit me every ten minutes. I felt my breasts; they still felt lumpy and swollen. I scowled, feeling agitated and pregnant.

My constant changing body only reminded me of the dreaded childbirth pain that I would soon have to endure once I went into labor. I was only three months away from giving birth now. The thought made my chest tighten with anxiety, and beads of sweat gathered at my forehead. What if I couldn't do it? What if the pain became too much for me, or the doctor had to perform a C Section on me? Or worse: Toby couldn't be there when I finally started having contractions and I had to drive to the hospital by myself? I couldn't breathe.

I finally pulled up to the red-brick building of the two-bedroom loft apartment that Toby and I shared. After parking, I waddled out and climbed up the stairwell to my floor. I couldn't wait to be with Toby. All day, I'd had to hold back the singeing pain below my stomach. The urgency to pee was growing stronger and stronger each day. And as if things couldn't get any worse, I nearly couldn't get into the car due to my oversize stomach and protruding navel getting in the way. Though, the baby had been surprisingly quiet for the last few hours.

When I slipped inside the cozy loft, Toby was reading a copy of _The Great Gatsby_ on the couch in the living room, wearing only his Calvin Klein boxers, which were tight and clingy. I gazed at his naked hips lustfully, my eyes lingering on his defined six-pack and muscular thighs.

Toby looked up when he heard me come in and beamed. "Hey, you." He bookmarked his place in the book and set it aside.

"Hey," I smiled, still drooling. "Were you waiting for me?"

He nodded, and I felt a crush of guilt. I crawled onto the couch next to him and pressed my lips to his. He felt warm and tasted like cinnamon.

Toby stroked my cheek softly. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I breathed.

Toby's hand fell to my bulging stomach and he caressed it affectionately. "How's my little peanut?" He leaned down to kiss my stomach.

I sighed. "I think she's tired. I haven't felt her kicking in a while."

"Maybe she'd hiding." Toby pressed his ear up against my pregnant belly. "Hey, baby girl. What are you doing in there?"

He pressed his lips all over my stomach, giving the baby deep, loving kisses. I giggled.

I rested my hands tenderly around the big bulge of my stomach, cradling it. I loved her. Suddenly, I felt a slight nudging underneath my palm, and I grinned.

"Toby, she's kicking." I took his hand and pressed it to the center of my stomach.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I can feel her."

The baby started to kick more swiftly, making a fluttering sensation, like wings, expanding throughout the walls of my stomach. My love for both Toby and the baby intensified in that moment, filling my body with light. The feeling was so intense that it caused me physical pain just to think about being separated from either of them, just for a second. Toby and this baby were my heart, my life. And I realized that I couldn't live without them.

Toby rubbed his hand across my belly, and the baby nudged against the spot where he touched it. My heart throbbed. I felt so unbelieving connected to him. Millions of tiny sparks electrified along my skin, strengthening our bond as soulmates.

"She loves you," I whispered.

Our eyes locked, and I felt my stomach jerk gently from the baby's movements.

Toby placed his hand over mine. "She loves you."

He pulled me in for a lingering kiss, stroking my mouth with his gentle, yet deep touch. Our baby continued to kick as we kissed.

I broke away breathlessly, staring at Toby's muscular abs, hardened from working out on the police force. He was naked except for his boxer briefs. It made me tremble.

I crawled onto his lap seductively, straddling him. Toby looked at me in surprise. "Spence…"

I silenced him with a kiss. "I want you," I breathed against his lips.

Toby touched his forehead to mine. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I whispered. I couldn't think of a more pleasant way to spend the night.

Toby pressed his lips hard against mine, soaking me all up. My fingers curled in his hair as I deepened the kiss breathlessly, devouring him. I clutched him to me desperately. Immediately, I felt Toby respond. His hands crawled up my back, reaching for the zipper on my dress. He tugged it down to my waist, revealing my yellow lacy bra.

My breath exploded in a wild, hot gasp against his lips. I slipped my hands inside Toby's boxers and gently tugged on his member, making him groan.

"Spencerrr…" Toby moaned.

I smiled at him flirtatiously. We were going to do this until he had no more feeling left in his body; I was going to give him pleasure tonight.

Toby dipped his head below my neck to my chest and brushed his lips against my exposed breasts. I tangled my hands through his hair and moaned. Then, as he continued sucking on my breasts, Toby bit off the front clasp of my bra with his teeth, unable to control his desires. My lips parted in a sigh.

I crossed my legs around his back as he carried me to our bedroom. I realized I was still wearing my heels, but I didn't care. I tightened my legs around his lower waist, digging my heels into him. Our mouths smashed together in a blind passion that couldn't be quenched.

Toby set me down to cup my butt, massaging and stroking my cheeks sensually. I leaned my head back and groaned. I wanted him to touch me, to feel the desire that I knew was pouring through him.

I peeled off my bra, letting his eyes wander over my full, bare breasts before walking to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Toby called after me.

I looked at him over my shoulder seductively. "I need to get into something a little more comfortable."

I slipped inside, leaving the bathroom door open a crack for him. I could hear Toby switch off the lights from the other side of the door. I opened up the fabric-lined wicker basket next to the shower that held my lingerie and pulled out my hot pink lace babydoll with matching cheeky panties.

I pushed my panties off my hips and tossed them into the bedroom for Toby to see. My heart pounded wildly thinking of him catching my underwear in his hands, touching them… My body turned sizzling hot, then cold. I hoped he was picturing me naked the way I was picturing him. I wanted him to grab me roughly before taking me to bed, to love me until it hurt. I smiled, swept away by the fantasy.

I suddenly remembered that Toby was waiting for me and I ran a brush through my hair, trying to look as perfect as possible for him. Then I kicked off my heels and slipped on my babydoll lingerie. The thin and eyelash lacy neckline cut low across my full and hardened breasts with a tiny satin bow, exposing nearly all of my cleavage. The see-through fabric parted at my stomach and stopped at my hips, showing my very pregnant belly. And the low-rise cheeky panties that rested below my hipbones showed off my buttocks; the thin lace revealed every inch of my skin, with my butt peeking out just enough to catch Toby's attention. I felt sexy and desirable.

As I adjusted the straps, my temporary burner phone suddenly went off, alerting me to a new message. Sure enough, I had two new voicemails, and they were all from Holbrook. I picked up the phone and frowned. It was eleven o'clock at night. What could be so important that Holbrook would need to call me this late?

I clicked on the first voicemail message and pressed the phone to my ear: "Spencer, it's Detective Holbrook. I just wanted to let you know that I traced the number from your phone and it came from an address on the east side of town, 255 Walnut Street."

That was the address for the Edgewood Motorcourt Motel. Why would A be hiding out in such an obvious place?

I listened to the next message. "Hey, Spencer, it's Gabe again. I just tracked down the person responsible for sending those threatening messages. The recipient's name is Josh Callahan. I promise I will investigate this further, but in the meantime you have to stay away from him. I know he's close friends with Jess, and he's dangerous." Holbrook's voice was very stern, but gentle.

The phone slipped through my fingers and clattered to the tile floor. I stared at it in bewilderment, wishing it would get sucked into a parallel universe and disappear. How was this possible? Josh was A?

I felt dizzy and shocked. There was no way Josh was the one who kidnapped my friends and I in the Dollhouse. He was in love with Jess, and she had been locked down in there just like the rest of us. He would never hurt her. Unless…

Maybe Josh knew Jess had feelings for Jason, too. And he wanted Jess all to himself, so he kidnapped her and locked her downstairs in the basement of a Dollhouse-themed torture chamber to keep her away from Jason. But it still didn't explain why he spent months torturing her. If Josh was jealous of Jason, wouldn't he have wanted to hurt him instead? Getting rid of Jason seemed like the perfect way to be with the girl he loved. He was the only thing standing in between Josh and Jess.

Deciding not to let the A drama bother me tonight, I typed in a quick text to Hanna, letting her know what I'd just learned about Josh and shut off my phone so I wouldn't be interrupted. A was _not_ going to ruin my romantic night with Toby.

I smoothed out my hair, then walked out into the dark bedroom. Toby had lit several candles around the room, casting a romantic golden glow in the room. I saw him sitting on the end of the bed in only his underwear and my heart thudded. Toby's eyes flickered with arousal, canvassing my body lustfully in my racy pink lingerie. My gaze fell on his taut shoulders, his beautiful bare muscular chest, the big bulge in his boxer briefs. I felt sexually charged, like my whole body was buzzing with flames. I wanted him more than I wanted anyone. I wanted his hands on my body, his lips on my mouth.

I slowly went to him and he took me into his arms, kissing my pregnant stomach. Toby slowly kissed down my belly where the fabric of my lingerie parted, giving me long, deep kisses along my baby bump. I took his face in between my hands roughly and parted his lips with my tongue, and Toby's mouth folded over mine. My lips parted, and the kiss deepened.

I kneeled in between his legs as he slid his hands around my back, pressing me closer to him. Suddenly, Toby was lowering me onto the bed.

"I need to get you wet first," he said in a low, sexy husky voice.

I let out a low whimper. Toby bent his head and kissed my neck, moving down in between my breasts. I moaned as he sucked deeply on each one, taking his time. My lower belly pooled with desire. His fingers swept to the front clasp of my babydoll slip. He unfastened it easily, sliding it down my chest. It fell lightly on the bed, exposing my naked breasts. My heart pounded.

Toby teasingly caught the lacy waistband of my cheeky panties next and pulled on it. I grazed my foot against his thigh, feeling extremely turned on. I didn't know how much more of this I could take before I exploded with hot desire.

"I need…" I whimpered, louder this time.

Toby grinned up at me devilishly, locking his gaze onto mine as he sucked on my navel, moving lower.

"No, please," I begged.

Gently, Toby spread apart my legs and kneeled in between them, gliding his fingers up my bare legs. I gasped. Hotness spread throughout my limbs and my body was shaking with need. I could already feel my lower navel moistening with the anticipation. Then he pulled my panties off my hips agonizingly slowly, slithering them off my ankles. I sighed pleasurably. In the next instant, Toby's mouth was on mine and I could feel him in there. He jerked his fingers into me in fluid, but steady strokes, making me quiver even more.

I moved my hands around inside his underwear, feeling his firm buttocks. It made me ache. Toby groaned, deeply aroused. I tugged them down and my legs started to quiver.

I hooked my legs around his lower waist and flipped him over. Then I looked into Toby's eyes, searching for his silent permission. When his eyes sparkled back at me with excitement, I disappeared underneath the sheets below Toby's waist and dove for his member. The sight of him excited me, filling me with a thousand erotic sensations. As soon as he felt me, Toby groaned long and deeply, submitting himself to me. He clutched fistfuls of the sheets on either side of me as I tasted him fiercely.

I nestled my head in between his legs and sucked. I clutched his butt in my hands as I worked, digging my fingers gently into his skin. I loved him so much.

Toby was panting hard. "Oh, Spencer."

I licked and sucked on him, feeling him harden, which only heightened my sex drive more. It grew so intense that a palpable electric energy sparked around us, threatening to explode. He tasted delicious, as if his skin was coated in candy.

He wrapped his legs around my head, giving me better access, and the wetness inside me deepened. I never thought I could feel this much pleasure from someone. The feeling of Toby's strong thighs pressing against the top of my shoulders sent quivers cascading through me.

Toby hardened his legs around me. I moaned and went in deeper. It was so intense and terrifying and wonderful all at once.

He released his hand that was gripping the sheets to massage the back of head as I continued to suck on him, stroking the strands of my hair with his fingers. He was so delicious that I couldn't stop.

Toby turned me over onto the side, and our limbs entwined. He gazed into my eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine, wrapping his arms around me. Intuiting his thoughts, I hitched my leg high up onto his hip and then, with my thighs parted, Toby slowly pushed himself inside me. He jerked into me fiercely, making the bed move swiftly.

My lips parted in a breathy moan. I could feel his member sliding in, jerking into every inch of me. Our souls were entwined, or as some might say, a sexual connection. I didn't want his body to ever part from mine. Toby deepened his legs in between mine to clutch my butt in his hands and breathed into my neck. I sighed and closed my legs tighter around his, clinging onto him.

Toby rocked against me back and forth like a seesaw, grinding and thrusting. My nails dug hard into his waist, and I cried out with need. "Arrrggggmmmmmmpppphhhh!"

"Spencer!" he moaned, loud and deep.

I rolled us over and I was panting hard on top of him, rolling my hips against his fiercely. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yeeessssss!" Excitement filled my limbs.

His fingers trailed up to my round stomach, feeling for the baby. We roamed around in the sheets with little regard of the hours, going nonstop. I paused over Toby with a gasp, needing some air, and then connected my body back to his again.

I closed my eyes, tilting my head up as Toby kissed along my chin. Toby had his legs wrapped around me, and I was pulled onto his waist cross-legged. This love was beautiful, ground shaking, life changing, borderline epic. It was the best sex I'd ever had. It was clear, blue water and white fluffy clouds floating over me, going on and on for miles. And we kept going and going.

Beneath our screams of pleasure, in my wildest fantasies I'd never dreamed it could be something as amazing as this.


End file.
